The City of Nowhere
by lillelouis
Summary: A mine on a foreign island collapses with two Narnian sovereigns in it, leaving them without a way back. When the only choice is forward, they cross into a world they never knew existed. Character list may expand - see previous fanfics for evidence of moody behavior. Minor alteration to the date in Epilogue.
1. The Eastern Sea

AN and disclaimer (Skip to begin reading):  Standard disclaimers apply. I'm playing with other peoples' characters, including those created by C.S. Lewis, Anderson, and elecktrum. Marvellous writers and directors and I'm blessed to have their sturdy shoulders to stand on. Any suggestions, criticism, and praise are welcome in any form you so choose. I'm sorry to have kept you guys waiting and I apologize in advance - this story is still incomplete, but as usual I have a back-log of chapters.

And as usual I hope everyone enjoys.

* * *

The City of Nowhere  


Chapter 1: The Eastern Sea

* * *

 _"_ _Quae peperit filium quem vocavit Gersam dicens advena fui in terra aliena." –_ _Exodus 2:22_ _–"And she bore him a son and he called his name Gershom for he said 'I have been a stranger in a strange land'."_

Two, yellow lovebirds twittered in their cage as fresh breezes ruffled their feathers. The sky above was the clearest blue. It had been for the entirety of their journey. The birds enjoyed the fresh air and the smell of salt in the wind. The rocking movements of their vessel. One bird was singing as the other watched the young girl in front of it. She was not a normal girl, this child. Nor was she really a child, because true to her heart she still did childish things, but always did so without undue childishness.

The wind picked up and ripped at everything that wasn't tied down. Dresses. Banners. Hair. Sails. A gull's cry was their first welcome. The sun was brilliant that day. It reflected off the turquoise sea, occasionally blinding with white flashes. The proud vessel that traveled the seas bore the name of _Ouranios_. Bright, green sails were held taut in the strong winds and showed, by their color, whom she carried within. She had been crafted from finicky, black walnut trees and carved to make her even more stunning. Intricate designs ran with the ores of her wood, transforming her to an ethereal being, born of mist and earth, carrying with her into the world a little bit of the sovereign kingdom where all life began.

In her she carried a dozen or so crewmembers and every soul onboard was important in the sense that each one served a purpose; simply by skill and by virtue of their most beautiful ideas. Everyone from the proud Dwarf that manned her rudder to the lovebirds in their cage. Every soul was special. Perhaps two in particular. A young boy and a young girl.

The ship was new, on her maiden voyage in fact. It was a birthday present to the girl; a way for her to travel the oceans she commanded.

The boy was her older brother. The two were not the closest of siblings. Nor were they estranged, but they had a lot of lost love to retrieve. This was the very reason the boy had lobbied so hard to join his sister on this, her first diplomatic voyage. The two children were king and queen of a country which has long since perished. They were in their third year of rule as we join them.

The girl in her eleventh year and the boy in his thirteenth.

Each had they been trained by the very best of tutors prior to undertaking the journey. Each had they been thoroughly prepared for the voyage they now embarked upon. But alas, all they had was training. Neither had been on this kind of journey before. The boy had seen war; many battles already, in fact. The girl had seen more death than women thrice her age. But neither had ever set out with the specific task of befriending strangers like this.

"Edmund, you shouldn't get in their way," she commented primly.

He rolled his eyes and narrowly avoided being stepped on by an eager colobus Monkey. "I just wanted to help."

"Well come here and help _me_. My braid has come undone," True enough, her hair was whipping around her heart-shaped face in a light brown cloud, strings snapping at her rosy cheeks.

"Lucy. . ." he groaned. "Kings don't braid hair."

"Brothers _do_ ," she persisted. She grabbed as much of her unruly mane as she could in one hand, and sent him a pointed look. He groaned again. She smiled when he came over and gently grabbed the few strands she had missed. She was aware of manipulating him, but had only opted to do so as a last resort. Ever since the Witch, he felt so guilty. She knew this. She had tried walking on eggshells like their older siblings still adhered to. It didn't seem to work, so she had resorted to using his guilt for favors. She knew it helped. It made him feel like he was contributing in some strange way. Lightened his shoulders from their morose posture, as odd as that sounded.

"I don't know _how_ to braid hair."

She knew he did. It wasn't a difficult skill to learn and he had seen both his sisters do it enough to remember. "Oreius never taught you?" She just wanted him to trust her again.

It took him a second to understand the joke. "Oh _ha, ha_." He cautiously began the delicate task, afraid of pulling her hair. "Oreius would likely sit on me if I tried anything like that on him."

She giggled. She knew he liked it when she laughed, so she did it a lot more when he was around. "You should join me and Susan more often then. Might learn something other than sword fighting."

They had come a long way, the young kings and queens. "My training is what's kept me and Peter alive so far," But they were still young.

She huffed dramatically, though both knew he was right. She turned to look over the ocean. "Did I thank you for this?"

The ship had been a present from him. His siblings too, but it was Edmund who'd had the idea and begun the work with shipbuilders from Tashbaan and Galma. "You tackled me when we showed you, remember?" He smirked, secretly enjoying the task she had set upon him. "I'd call that a 'thanks'."

She laughed. She remembered. That had been a good day, her eleventh birthday. It was not something she was likely to forget. Her siblings had smiled and laughed a lot that day. It was not a day which would be easily outdone. The party had been spectacular. "I remember you sneaking drinks during the feast when Susan wasn't looking."

"Ha," Edmund laughed. "Peter gave me those drinks."

She hummed in contentment. "I suppose he's looking forward to having you join him in his alcoholism when you're older."

Edmund scoffed. "He's not an alcoholic-"

"I know," she interrupted. It was a conversation their eldest siblings had had far too often since being crowned. Lucy was a little worried, not doing much drinking yet. The boisterous behavior it brought forth was foreign to her. Peter only did it at parties. He only _over_ did it because it was still new, Edmund claimed. Said it was part of being king. Their parents had never let them taste drinks in England although it grew increasingly hard to remember why. Peter had always been curious. Lucy too in those days. Though not anymore.

And her siblings thought _she_ needed looking after.

"Careful you don't lean too far," Edmund gently pulled her back from the rail. He was still braiding.

She sighed. "I'm not a child."

"No, by all means. _You're_ an old woman. Can't believe old age hasn't caught up with you yet."

"Edmund." She tried to slap his shoulder without looking. He chuckled. She liked his chuckle. "I could make a habit of this."

"I'm not braiding your hair _every_ morning."

"Not that," She reached back to slap him again, but he moved too fast. "This," She gestured to the ocean. "Traveling together."

He hummed as she just had. "It _is_ nice."

She smiled.

Neither knew they would go on many such journeys together in the years to come. That was perhaps what made the present trip so exciting. Not knowing.

She could easily hear the contentment in his voice. He liked this more than he was admitting, true to style. "We should make more of an effort to reconnect with the Island-Narnians," It wasn't a very polite term and seemed to suggest islanders weren't really Narnians. Lucy didn't care. It made it easier for her to distinguish between them. And besides, she felt that calling them the 'human-Narnians' was worse. Susan insisted she just call them Narnians.

"We are," Edmund absently reminded.

The isles in the Eastern Sea were many and often small. Several had been mapped by King Frank's long lineage and Tashbaan traders, but many still remained to be discovered. Lucy already had the tingling sensation that this would be _her_ task and it filled her with such vigor and excitement that she could hardly stand still.

She could tell he was almost finished with the braid. "Not fast enough."

"Everything is too slow for you." He finished and tied it at the bottom with a leather strap.

She turned with a wide smile. "That's why old age hasn't caught me yet. Because I run too fast." She studied the braid and noticed that several strands stuck out here and there. She smiled when she realized it was her brother's unique handiwork. "How do I look?" She stood a bit taller and raised her chin.

"Fabulous, old girl," Edmund held out his arm and guided her off deck.

Since the ship was hers, it had been designed for her. The royal quarters were one, big room, but a curtain had been hung as a divider since Edmund was sleeping there as well. A hammock had been mounted on the other side. She loved this ship. It still smelled like the forest. She loved her siblings for gifting it to her.

"How about a game of chess?" Edmund had already pulled out the board and was setting the pieces. Since the victory of Beruna he and Peter had taken a liking to the game. Their mother had been in the process of teaching it to the two eldest siblings before they left. Though neither of the children could quite recall her face, they remembered the game well enough. Peter played a lot. Susan not so much.

Lucy sighed. There wasn't much else to do when the crewmembers were working. She and Edmund – _well mostly she_ – were too young to properly help with anything. It was only in the evenings, after casting the anchor, when the real merriment began. Lucy couldn't wait till she was older and could be of some service around her ship. She knew Edmund felt the same.

"White or black?"

"White," She was taking lessons from her brother while he was taking lessons from Peter, Cheroom and Irel. Together they evolved their game, one step at the time. "Do you think King Baskar plays chess?" She opened with a knight.

"Possibly. It seems like the game has been around since before we came," Edmund looked up after moving a pawn. He was always a bit threatened by her very bold strategies. "It's strange how some things remind me of England."

"Things like chess," Lucy agreed and moved a second piece. "And toast," It wasn't so much a memory any longer. More precisely it was a certain taste or color in the air. Something that breezed by whenever she was reminded of it.

"The dances," Edmund moved another. "Or some of the food they eat. Things I wouldn't imagine Pigs or Cheetahs eating."

"Do you think King Baskar is like us?" She looked up, seeking council only he, in his brotherly wisdom, could impart.

He met her eyes. "Possibly," Edmund knew she was excited to meet the king. He had four sons, the youngest Susan's age. "He'll love you, Lucy. Don't worry so much."

"He'll love you too, Ed," She smiled at him when he looked up after moving a bishop. He smirked, but didn't seem to really hear the reassurance. He was like that a lot. He didn't like praises or anything that came near to sounding like one. He got very embarrassed and tended to look down. Shrink.

Lucy didn't particularly _like_ them either, but she didn't hate them like her brother seemed to. She just smiled furiously, like Susan, whenever someone complimented something she said or did. Mostly, though, they commented her pretty dresses or vivid watercolors. Perhaps she should take up fencing? Or archery like Susan?

"Do you ever get afraid with all these new people we have to meet?" he asked in a sullen voice. He hid it well, but Lucy knew when he brother was worried.

She watched him ponder a move. She knew their first meeting with King Lune had surprised her siblings. She hadn't realized how much it had affected Edmund. One of the very last things she saw her brother as was timid. "Not especially," He had fought battles and faced beasts that made grown men cry. "Do you?"

"Never before this," He sighed and rubbed his eye. "It feels like there's so much pressure for us to make friends with this king, but what if he's not interested in anything we have to say?"

"He _will_ be," She looked curiously at him. It was a side of him she rarely saw. Never before, in fact. In slighter doses since coming to Narnia, but never this prominent. "People tend to underestimate us, you know."

He smiled quickly and took her knight. "I know."

"Me and Susan most often," She took his pawn in a rash counter. "They think we're just pretty girls who care about nothing but dresses and parties."

Edmund smiled. "You'll do very well, Lucy. I never doubt that."

"Then stop doubting _yourself_."

He looked at her through dark eyes.

"If you're so sure about _my_ abilities," Lucy added, "try being a little surer of your _own_. I _did_ learn them all from you, you know," She took his pawn. "And move your bishop."

He did as told. They played for another hour before Lucy lost by a few moves.

The next day the _Ouranios_ and her crew set shore in Terebinthia's largest port. The gemstone seat of King Baskar and Queen Hira.

* * *

TBC...right now.


	2. Eion

Chapter 2: Eion

Large windows let the pre-noon sun in as the robed king paced before his oldest son and their advisor. "What do you know of King Edmund?" King Baskar asked said advisor. The crown prince, as well, was waiting patiently in the room with a wondrous expression.

"He's a skilled swordsman," the advisor answered. "He was also the one who betrayed his family to the White Witch."

"I find that a most interesting contradiction. The devotion he displays in the stories far outweigh the more...malicious rumors." The king was pacing through the room, head bowed in thought.

"Perhaps the rumors are false?" the king's son offered. Bastian watched his father closely. The crown prince was a slow thinker. Thorough and calm in most deliberations, like his mother. Bastian's younger brothers and the king were a little more impulsive in their nature. Bastian knew it was a trait that made for good kings and secretly wondered for a second if he could ever live up to his father's legacy.

"No. The witch's downfall was real enough so the prophecy must have been too," The king raised a finger in the air whilst pacing. "and if the _prophecy_ was real, then the rumors must be as well."

Bastian didn't necessarily follow his father's line of thinking, but would never dream to oppose him. "They are due to arrive by noon today."

"Have the preparations been made?"

The advisor, Hellon, answered: "Hopefully to their satisfaction, My King."

"Very well. Be gone. Make sure everything is perfect," He waved him off and resumed pacing. The mounted guards didn't move a muscle. "I must admit I have heard great things about the Narnian sovereigns," the king said. His son gave a consenting, little hum, smiling at the sudden softening of his father's face. "Especially the Gentle Queen, as I believe she is called," The door closed behind them and the king's shoulders sank slightly. His hands unfolded and came to rest easily by his sides, digging into the pockets of his robe.

When his frown was brightened by a grin, _Bastian_ frowned. "Are you thinking what I think you are?" He arched a brow and crossed his arms. He too had relaxed upon the closing of the door and slipped into a less formal mood.

King Baskar mimicked his son. "You don't think Hilio would approve?"

"I think my brother would rather choose who he marries _himself_."

"But her reputation is _pristine_. She is supposedly the most beautiful woman to mount the throne since Queen Swanwhite."

" _Every_ queen since then has been described as such, father," He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. "She could be twice his age."

The king smirked, not at all unkindly. "A woman with experience might be good for him."

"Father!" Baskar, but his son was far from impressed. "He's _fifteen_ years of age."

"I know, I know, Bastian. Relax. I don't intend to marry off my youngest within the next few minutes."

"Meanwhile, Escar _still_ complains to me about Lady Marianne," he mumbled. "It seems the young Lady has little else on her mind other than parties and improprieties."

"Yes, well hopefully she will have grown _emotionally_ in a few years' time."

"Why did you not just let him choose for himself?" Bastian sighed.

The king grumbled. "That boy never looked twice at women. He would never have taken the initiative had I not taken it for him."

"So allow him his freedom," he laughed. "Is it not enough that _I_ am married?" His voice softened and he smiled at his father.

The king turned to him and smiled as well. "Yes, my dear," He placed a hand around his son's neck. "If only you would give me a grandson."

Bastian huffed and shrugged out of his father's embrace. "Nothing satisfies you,"

"Not true," The king once again held up a finger. "Did I ever tell you about the time I defeated a dragon?"

"Yes, father. Several times-"

"We had been on the ocean for over a month," he grandiosely announced. "Our provisions were nearly depleted. . ."

* * *

The wind made the flags on the _Ouranios_ snap. The swift up-thrusts made the red and gold standard flicker and snap in the wind, made the deep green sails puff and billow out like the cheeks of a giant. The powerful ocean currents made the ship rock gently from side to side. Lucy and Edmund joined most of the crewmembers on the deck and watched the ship glide to shore. People had gathered portside to greet them. They were waving and Edmund could see women holding flowers. He wasn't looking forward to having wreaths thrown at him.

Lucy seemed ecstatic.

"Be careful you don't sprain your wrist, waving like that," he mumbled.

She stepped on his foot without dropping her smile. He bore it almost without grimacing.

* * *

The crowd parted as princes Bastian, Escar and Hilio rode towards the harbor. The ship was the first thing that caught Bastian's eye. Never in his life had he seen anything so splendid, nearly mythical. It suited the reputations of the Narnians well. The billowing sails were so green he could almost smell pine resin. The way the vessel creaked with each swell was almost lost in the noise of celebration, would have been if not for its hypnotizing quality. Peopled waved and cheered as two figures were escorted off the gangway by a group of strange creatures. Narnians, the likeness of which he had only ever heard described in books or seen depicted on tapestries.

For the barest of moments he realized he had never been greeted with the vigor his people now displayed towards them, but brushed it aside as the Narnian royalty stepped forward to greet Terebinthian dignitaries for the first time in a hundred years.

The second Edmund and Lucy stepped off the gangway it seemed the temperature rose. The near constant breeze of the ocean was broken by the tall flanks of the ship.

Three princes rode through the crowd on horses. Two bays and one black which looked more like a warhorse than the other two. Edmund was surprised to see the warhorse ridden by one of the younger brothers. Because surely crown prince Bastian was the foremost man, currently dismounting.

Celer and his soldiers took up wide flanking positions among the crowd. People were hesitant to greet them, no doubt on account of their strange appearances. Edmund had been hesitant as well the first time he met them.

With only a cursory glance at the Fauns and Animals Prince Bastian made his way towards Edmund and Lucy. His eyes widened when he saw them clearly and Edmund had no doubt it was because of their ages, but to Bastian's praise he hardly stuttered in his first address. "King Edmund, Queen Lucy."

Edmund nodded in greeting.

"We have heard great things about you," He glanced at Lucy to include her. "I am Crown Prince Bastian," His words were fluent and spoken without hesitation or malice.

It was more than Edmund had expected, though Bastian's brothers seemed to fare with slightly less grace. They still looked surprised to see such young monarchs.

He studied the crown prince a little more closely and was oddly pleased with what he saw. Bastian held himself with a level of poise and serenity Edmund could only relate to Susan. It seemed they shared a modicum of the same grace that made Susan's countenance so pleasing. He wondered if the king was the same, but pushed it away. "Thank you for the welcome, Crown Prince Bastian," He smiled as kindly as he could manage.

The prince smiled back before he remembered to bow. "My brothers," He shifted back to include the other two princes who had now dismounted. "Prince Escar and Prince Hilio," They bowed.

The one introduced as Escar was the one who rode the warhorse and Edmund found upon closer inspection that he wasn't surprised. Escar had a soldier's bearing and build. The younger, Hilio, looked to be about Peter's or Susan's age. He resembled Peter, Edmund thought, if not for his black hair and his wider jaw. His whole body, more stout.

He bowed politely, "My sister, Queen Lucy the Valiant," and saw Lucy do a lovely curtsey out the corner of his eye. When she straightened and smiled, all three men, nay the entire crowd, softened.

"Thank you so much for the invitation," she said in her best impression of Susan.

"Yes," Bastian shared an embarrassed smirk with prince Escar. "I'm afraid if not for our mother's foresight, you would not have received one so soon," He noticed the way Edmund's eyes kept drifting to the crowds. "She is waiting in the Storm for us," He swung out his arms for them to precede him.

Edmund often had to remind foreign dignitaries that he and Lucy outranked almost anyone regardless of age. It was nice to see that Bastian remembered. He offered his and his brother's horses to them, but Lucy declined. They were walked through the main city, among the narrow, cobblestone streets with tightly packed houses. Edmund recalled what he had read about the island before departure. It was supposedly divided into two regions by its own geology. A mountainous half and the flats. The mountains were splayed out all around them. They flanked the capitol, Eion, and the northern most part of the island.

The Storm was a castle named such after its high location. The trek took them through the city and up an incline that overlooked the crescent shaped bay. People followed them to the edge of Eion and waved their goodbyes to the Narnian King and Queen, and their soldiers. The smell of the ocean followed them up the steep incline and Edmund couldn't help but be reminded of Cair Paravel. There was something romantic about the ocean, despite its inherent ferociousness.

The farther from the city they went, the cooler it became. "Crown Prince Bastian?" Lucy asked.

The crown prince smiled. "Please call me Bastian."

She smiled as well. "Bastian. I read in old, Narnian accounts that one side of Terebinthia was farm lands."

"Your records are almost correct, Queen Lucy. The southern side is mainly used for farming and cattle. The mountains supply freshwater and we've found that rice grows very well here. A few mines are bored for metals and precious stones as well."

"Our records mention nothing about precious stones." Edmund interrupted. He had always had difficulty accepting the occurrence of gemstones in Narnia. It was such a young world, if their recorded history was anything to go by. He knew how long it took for diamonds and the like to form. How much pressure and patience had to be applied. Even if they had a thousand years, it wouldn't have been enough. He had come to the acceptance a while ago that it was one of the many things about his home he would never truly understand.

"They were only discovered about fifty years ago by my grandfather. It is not widely known."

"And what kind of farming do you do?" Lucy asked.

"We cultivate wheat and rye mostly, but also a dozen or so rice fields. And of course orchards and vineyards."

Edmund smirked. "We would love to try some," Lucy sent him a shrewd look.

"Certainly, King Edmund. Only the best will be served tonight."

"Oh?" Both sovereigns looked at Bastian. Not only Bastian's height, but also the slanted road, forced them to look up.

"My father is having a feast in your honor."

"Really?" Lucy couldn't help her smile. She was beginning to huff a little. Kept pushing her dress out of the way so she wouldn't trip on the cobblestone. Edmund was fairing marginally better and held out a hand for his sister.

"Yes," Bastian returned it with the same adoration most did when Lucy smiled at them. "It has been months in the making."

She shared an exited grin with Edmund, but he didn't feel inclined to match it. He had feared they would throw a big party. He had found quite early on that he didn't like parties. He avoided them whenever he could at home. He didn't like the fancy dress or the silly ceremonies. He had hoped for a quiet dinner with his sister, perhaps the king. Not a party. A glance at Celer to his far right told him the Faun saw and shared his sentiment. Parties meant guests, which meant many more faces to watch.

* * *

They made their way up the road until cobblestone became gravel and then cobblestone again. Wealth didn't seem abundant here, but Edmund figured the gem mines would soon change that. He knew how Calormenes loved their rubies. The thought of them made him frown.

Ahead of them he saw a small castle in red rock, perched on a hill. It was surrounded by gardens and a high wall. Mountains rose into low clouds farther away. The city lay below them with a cerulean sea behind it. He imagined the view from the castle was spectacular no matter which perch you chose.

The circular wall encased the entire building, which was closer to a villa than an actual castle. Tall willow trees grew, both inside and outside the wall. Beard lichen crawled all over them, making them appear even more otherworldly. Purple flowers grew in little clusters on the walls and a scent of winter blossoms lingered in the air. He felt more relaxed than he had expected and didn't fully understand why.

His eyes traveled upwards.

The walls were old battlements with only knee-high crenellations. Stationary guards kept watch over the road while a handful of soldiers made rounds around the castle. Edmund noticed a few were watching them curiously, guarded almost. He smirked and suspected they were mostly for show since the city of Eion was never recorded to have been attacked. The people of Terebinthia had sailed to war, but war had never found _them_.

His smile blossomed as he walked through the gate.

A flurry of movement met them. A white camarillo was trotting circles around a young girl. She couldn't have been more than nine or ten. To the side a lady had an arm around a younger girl. The two girls looked alike. Sisters, no doubt.

"Who are they?" Edmund asked quietly of the second prince, Escar.

"The Lady is Bastian's wife. Princess Llithus. The girls are his daughters." he answered and pointed, "Princesses Liliana and Llilu," He watched them a moment with Edmund, but quickly moved past the family. Edmund lingered just long enough for Lucy to reach him.

"This place is so lovely, don't you think?" she whispered.

He nodded. The snow white stallion was a sight indeed, among the purple wallflowers and smiling children. He and Lucy only continued on because Bastian urged them to join him inside. "Your Majesties?" Edmund looked up. "My King and Queen awaits."

He quickly nodded and hurried inside. As he passed, he nodded to Bastian. "You have a lovely home." He didn't see the crown prince smile, but didn't need to. As if by magic the mood changed and the Narnians felt a little more at ease. Lucy already seemed to love it here.

"Far smaller than Cair Paravel, I imagine."

"The size of Cair far outlasts the need it. No one seems to take up that much space," Edmund answered in distraction. He was admiring the organic carvings along the gateway into the Keep. "We've opened our doors to our citizens."

The crown prince looked to Lucy as if to confirm the young king's statement. She smiled calmly in return.

"Your citizens live _with_ you?"

Edmund shrugged, but regretted it a second later. "Only those whose homes have been destroyed or those too old to care for themselves."

The crown prince scoffed in amazement and smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. "How ever did you think of it?" He stopped just outside a second set of gates and gestured for Edmund and Lucy to precede him.

Edmund nodded his thanks and asked in passing: "Why shouldn't we have?"

They were escorted into a throne room far smaller than their own, but no less delicate. Large windows seemed to dominate the construction of this castle as well and had been mounted to overlook the courtyard outside and the bay far below. On two thrones sat King Baskar and Queen Hilio in quiet expectation.

Lucy and Edmund were accompanied to the center and proceeded on their own the rest of the way. The king had a stern face which softened the instant he smiled at Lucy. The queen as well, though she was far more reserved in her expression. A page introduced them to the nobles and royal family. The two sovereigns bowed the way they had been instructed.

When they straightened they found themselves scrutinized, though not unkindly. "Your Majesties," Baskar greeted. "We have heard wondrous tales of both of you. Your magnificent siblings as well," He rose with a wide gesture.

Edmund wondered if they had ever had the displeasure of meeting Jadis, but there was very little apprehension to be found in either of them. "Likewise, Your Majesty," Lucy chirped and curtseyed again. The king smiled and chuckled as he retook his seat.

"Please enjoy the bounties of my home," Ed and Lucy nodded both. "My home is yours."

They bowed and were escorted out with nary a word between them. Lucy and he shared a look that perhaps spoke a little of relief, but neither said anything.

Celer and his company were shown to their quarters whilst Edmund and Lucy were shown to theirs. They had identical rooms next to each other. The only difference was that Edmund's was styled with silver fabrics and Lucy's in bright evergreen. The king knew his visitors well it seemed. It made Edmund wonder even more about the sort of man they had just met.

He worried about the amount of information the king had gathered, but had not sensed any ill will towards them. He pushed aside one of the heavy curtains and looked out his window where he was greeted with a view of the purple mountains and the large orchards behind the castle. A trait they shared with Cair Paravel.

It was a view for a boy who preferred silence, he realized.

In the other room, Lucy instantly mounted her bed with a big grin when the doors closed. She bounced on it a few times until she spotted a partial peek out the window. Heavy tapestries lined the wide mantles as well as the four corners of the room. They made her feel like she was sitting inside a forest. She drew the curtain and opened the window. With an intake of air she smiled and leaned on the sill. A soft knock wasn't enough to lure her away from the view of mountains. "Come in."

A passage between rooms creaked and light footsteps sounded. "Like your room, old girl?" Edmund asked as he snuck in through the service entrance.

She smiled and turned to her brother as he sat on the bed. "Oh Edmund, it's _lovely_. How does yours look?"

He pointed at her curtains. "Silver tapestries," He fingered her dark green bedspread. "A lot of grey."

Even though he pretended to hate his stupid signet color, she knew he liked it. He liked grey. He had admitted once that it calmed him down. That the cold color had always soothed his mind. It was good fortune it looked so well on him too.

She smiled. "Mine has a lot of green,"

His widened his eyes and his mouth made a little 'o'. "And here I thought I was back in _Nar_ nia."

She giggled at him. "Does your room have a view like this as well?" She glanced back at the brilliant display of colors outside. She couldn't even imagine how wonderful the sunsets were here. The colors reminded her of Narnia and made her briefly miss their older siblings.

"Yes," he said softly.

She noticed his expression and sobered. "What's wrong?" She came over and sat next to him.

"Nothing," He looked down at his hands with a forced smile and huff.

"Liar," She leaned against him and twirled the tassels on her bedspread. A gold lion was weaved into the green velvet. "I saw your face when we came in, you know," Her voice softened, but it was hard to be happy when Edmund wasn't.

"I was just thinking about those mines Bastian mentioned earlier," He narrowed his eyes like he always did in thought.

"I'm sure Susan would love a gemstone," She smiled, but couldn't quite get it to reach her eyes. Edmund continued staring into nothing until he suddenly stiffened slightly.

"What if they ruin everything?" He angled to face her. "What if word spreads that Terebinthians have all this wealth and people start coming here?"

Lucy smiled again. "But that's a good thing. Right? Fillius told us that thing about supply and demand when people will want what King Baskar has and they'll start showing up and then everyone will buy things from the local merchants and the island will get richer. It's a good thing, Edmund," She took a deep breath. The grey Ram that taught social sciences was very stern and wise. He had a pompous, almost arrogant attitude which was supported by his massive, coiling horns, but was wise and tempered in all matters. He also had a soft spot for Edmund seeing as the younger king appealed to something in the Ram's nature.

"I remember," he muttered.

"Well it sounded good when _he_ said it," Fillius had reviewed Narnia's financial history one afternoon, to Lucy's great boredom. Edmund who had paid attention had been forced to relay the knowledge to his younger sister.

"I'm afraid they'll ruin it," he admitted.

Lucy frowned. "How?"

"The Calormenes will come and take everything," He said it like he didn't care, but Lucy, in her wise youth, knew better.

She sagged a little. It was a constant regret to her that she hadn't yet met the Tisroc, but she was only nine and a half when her siblings first went and too young to go. That, and the fact that the Tisroc hadn't come to visit them meant she would simply have to wait. She had stayed home then and attended lessons while her siblings sailed to Tashbaan. Peter had vowed never to return. Susan chuckled and said the heat nearly killed him. Lucy knew they hadn't agreed with the Tisroc which led her to believe she wouldn't have liked him very much either. Seeing as she already knew at the tender age of nine that she tended to agree with her siblings.

She furthermore knew that Edmund had been very moved by what he saw there, and had wondered since then exactly _what_ that was. She suspected it had something to do with the slaves. She didn't like people who kept slaves. She didn't like people who believed it was alright to keep slaves. She knew her siblings didn't either.

She knew Edmund was afraid of something and that it wasn't just meeting new people or leaving his home. It was something else. She just _knew_ it. So with a deep sigh she leaned in, made eye contact and said, in her strongest voice: "We won't _let_ them."

* * *

TBC


	3. The Rose Garden

A/N: :*

Chapter 3: The Rose Garden

The banquet that same evening went much like Edmund had imagined. There was a lot of eating, a lot of drinking, many endless introductions, mind numbing ceremonies and people he forgot three seconds upon greeting them.

Lucy danced a little. She always danced when there was music. Even when there wasn't, but that only happened when she thought no one was looking. King Baskar arrived late and hardly spoke with anyone before he marched up and greeted the two, visiting royals, though the introductions were brief on account of the King having to greet many of the other attendants as well. The grand hall of the Storm was packed. It seemed every lord or lady of Terebinthia had heard of Ed and Lucy's arrival and wanted to see them in person.

Edmund would never quite understand the amazement he and his siblings roused in most people.

Many stared. Baskar including, mid-conversation with a lord. Edmund wondered what kept two of them so enthralled despite the king's obvious sense of duty, but didn't linger on it for too long, knowing it would only make him worry without cause. Hopefully without cause. He later saw him sitting in a corner with his sons. Four brothers. They looked quite alike. The crown prince, Bastian, and his younger brother, Baro, more so than any of the four. Baro being the only one Edmund and Lucy hadn't been properly introduced to yet. The two youngest were Escar, the war general, and Hilio. His gaze drifted to Lucy who was chatting with the ladies of the court like they were all old friends. Smiling and giggling. It all came so naturally to her that Edmund almost envied it.

Hours passed and after several short introductions he found himself sitting in a corner, listening to the music and the hum of conversation. His sister was dancing with Rango, a Faun from Celer's company. The dance was a merry one that resembled the Narnian Satyr Waltzes, perhaps why the shy Faun had agreed to dance in the first place.

He smiled when Lucy stumbled and laughed at her own mistake. It was something Ed himself wasn't very good at. He had learned only to do things when he was good enough to do them properly. The same went for speaking. He only spoke when he had something worthwhile to say, in his own mind at least. Or perhaps Peter's. It wasn't fun being noticed for being crooked and out of place, he had learned. Nor was he always the best judge of his own actions. A lesson that had cost him dearly and an awareness that often left him feeling humbled.

It was like this King Baskar found him. Edmund had found a column to lean on while he watched his sister laugh.

"King Edmund?" The king cautiously approached, showing a great deal more presence of mind than Edmund initially gave him credit for.

The young Narnian nodded and uncoiled his arms from his chest. "King Baskar," Gave a quick, perfunctory bow.

The older man returned the bow with a warm smile and stood beside him. He looked over the court with a blissful expression. "My son told me of your arrival today."

Edmund glanced over, but didn't know what to say.

"He was very surprised. And I think, a little in _awe_ of you."

Edmund's dark eyes fixed on the side of the king's face. "Why is that, Your Grace?"

"He said you bore yourself like a man twice your age," He glanced over and looked him directly in the eye. "Even Hilio struggles with his age and he is two years your senior as I hear it."

"We're subject to different circumstances, Your Majesty."

The king upped his chin in agreement. "I imagine one comes to maturity rather quickly with the burden of rule," He glanced over wryly. "And occupation. I _myself_ was a rather late bloomer. I know my eldest, Bastian, has fared far more gracefully."

Edmund nodded. "He'll make a good king," Baskar nodded with dark eyes on his oldest. A new song began and Lucy pulled Bastian's daughters out to dance with her.

"She's a special one, Our Queen," Edmund twitched at the submission. "She is wise for her age though she doesn't seem at all burdened."

Edmund smiled. "She always has been. Wise," The older king glanced at him again. Edmund's eyes softened when he himself turned to look at her. "It's something in her that sparkles on evenings like this," He realized what he had said and glanced down a moment.

The king smiled. "Ah, my boy, I believe we understand one another."

Edmund found himself captivated by the sudden love he heard in Baskar's voice. He nodded, a little humbled at the display of trust. A little surprised at the sudden familiarity.

"But enough of an old man's drabble. Come. Sit with us?" He gestured to his own table. "Tomorrow we discuss business."

Edmund nodded and followed. It was a war-table, he realized. Low and shrouded with dark, hand-woven quilts. A map of the island and outlying waters emblazoned where the wood peeked through. Large flagons of ale and wine in the hands of each person around it. He was directed to the center of the princes and felt a little boxed in. They were broad chaps. All probably handle themselves quite well in most situations he guessed. They all had years on Edmund and yet he was the one with a kingdom to rule. An unfairness that would have caused misgivings in most other companies, except for this one.

Baro was finally introduced and apologized for his absence earlier. His wife had just had her first child not long ago. She was resting and Baro would be returning to her soon. The prince had wanted to formally greet the king and queen of Narnia, having heard all sorts of wondrous stories from far-traveling sailors.

Edmund politely asked to his wife. Lady Omi, as she was named, had been blessed with a son the eve of their arrival. They congratulated and toasted. Bastian spoke of _his_ wife and daughters. Escar, of his betrothed. Hilio swore he would never marry unless someone forced him. All four princes glanced at their father, who calmly smiled back. Edmund began to feel a little more at ease. He began to relax among the big, calm men. Be it the wine or the introductions, he loosened up.

The music slowed and Lucy came to sit with them. All six of them gazed as she delicately sat herself beside her brother, more like a delicate bloom in a thorn bush than ever before. She was introduced and smiled ecstatically when Prince Baro told of his new son. She congratulated and made them all smile. She almost glowed in the soothing light of evening lanterns though it was not long before she peacefully reclined, and even shorted until she had fallen asleep against her brother's shoulder, unawares to the celebrating guests.

"Should we have someone escort her?" King Baskar asked. "The journey was long, I apologize. I hardly thought on it-"

"It's quite alright," Edmund stood up and smoothly slipped her into his arms. She was heavy, but their rooms weren't far. Besides, he had seen Peter do it so many times and _he_ always made it look so easy. He carried her off, completely forgetting about her sandals.

He didn't see the king and his four sons smiling in their wake.

* * *

The next day, after a morning and noon spent in the same room, Edmund was ready to kill himself. Or burst out of his skin. He was still debating which would horrify the present company more. At present he was sitting in a bare room. It held a bookcase full of books on law and history, and a large table. There was only one window. It was as if the room had been _designed_ to be uncomfortable. And cold.

He kept forcing himself to look away from the doors and closed his eyes against the mounting frustration. "But port authorities need to make sure that _no_ illicit wares are put on the ships," he said again. Trying desperately – _desperately_ – not to groan. He felt so very close to losing his patience. It was a brilliant day outside and he found himself wishing he was anywhere but here. With anyone else but the mummified parody of a man sitting in front of him.

His parchment-skin and carefully groomed face creased absurdly. "Yes, I understand, Your Majesty, but most captains refuse to allow government regulators on their vessels. We are a _free_ harbor," It didn't help his mood that the royal advisor was apparently unshakable in his patience. Or uncompromising in his perception of freedom.

"Then _make_ them," he retorted.

"We would lose too much traffic if we allowed for such a law to be passed, Your Majesty," Hellon brushed off and rose from his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. He began pacing slowly for the umpteenth time, peeling across the floor in decorated slippers. "And the King does not have autonomy to lord over privately owned ships. He cannot be held responsible for merchants and traders."

"Then who can?" Edmund had agreed to speak with Hellon when the king informed of a problem that had been brought to his attention. He had been gone since pre-dawn and would continue to be for most of the day. Prince Bastian had offered to sit in, but withdrew at the last minute when _another_ problem arose. The princes Escar and Hilio were similarly nowhere to be found and Edmund was beginning to wonder if the royals were all perfectly aware how boring and pigheaded Hellon was.

Lucy had left in the wee hours of the morning for a tour of Eion and the surrounding lands. She would be gone most of the day as well, and had added insult to injury by taking Celer and half his company with her. Edmund started to feel like a lost lamb. He wished Peter or Susan were there to ruffle the advisor's feathers a bit. Edmund himself had started rubbing his temples and felt almost ready to scream when the door opened.

"Hush, Hellon and listen to the King. He has just cause for setting his terms," It was a strict woman's voice. In walked someone in a pale, green gown and white, intricately woven hair, placed high on her head. Her expression was stern, but she didn't intimidate Edmund for a second. It was perhaps the last person he had expected to see. Queen Hira.

She had been absent the previous night because she had been with her daughter in law, Lady Omi. The supposedly exotic-looking woman from Galma who had recently given birth to a beautiful boy. He had been told Lady Omi's family was of old Calormene stock and rumor had it the young lady had the appearance to prove it. With almond shaped eyes and caramel-colored skin. Edmund knew of her closer relatives in Tashbaan and had wondered if it would be wise to wrangle himself an invitation to their residence some point down the line. He could deduce the strategic advantage almost like a sixth sense though he couldn't quite yet identify the purpose. Susan would've known instantly.

Hellon bowed and offered her a chair, as of yet, unruffled. The queen took a seat opposite the young king and watched him with ease. He had begun to doubt if anything Hellon said was actually in concord with what the king wanted.

She sat down and folded her hands atop the table. "Tell me, Your Majesty. How would you go about securing merchants' goods without losing the money they bring to our island?"

He sighed, eager to share his ideas with anyone who would listen and take him seriously. He and Fillius had prepared him well for this journey as the old Ram tried to teach his king everything he knew. "I would lower the docking fee and guarantee safe passage as far as Galma. The Narnian navy can guarantee protection through Galmian warships as far south as Zalindreh and Teebeth Port."

"I'm certain you know this, but our fair island has no navy to aptly protect a fleet of merchant ships. How do you suggest Terebinthia guarantee safe passage through waters that are filled with pirates and the like?"

Edmund felt certain that many of those pirate ships made port in Terebinthia on a regular basis. "Ask the Galmian navy to actively hunt them down and offer financial assistance in return. We will _gladly_ offer our own assistance, but We refuse to allow unchecked ships to dock or leave Narnian ports," He glared at Hellon, gland when the older man snubbed his nose and looked away.

She nodded, smoothing her hands over the table as she gazed at them. "Wise council, Your Majesty," He returned her nod, relieved to have found someone who took him at least a little seriously. "I shall endeavor to speak with the King when he returns tonight and provide you with an answer tomorrow," She looked at the advisor. "Hellon, will you please have a girl bring us tea in the rose garden."

Hellon bowed without delay and left the room. With an inhale she stood up and extended her hand. "Would you care to join me, King Edmund?"

The young Narnian sighed and attempted to wrap his mind around what had just happened. When he found himself unable to grasp the subtle details of, what was obviously, female persuasion he nodded and allowed himself to be escorted outside, wondering only if it was Hellon or Ed who had been manipulated.

The sun was brilliant, even more so beyond that dull room, but also sharp. It stung his pale skin more than the Narnian sun. Queen Hira led them outside to a small garden at the north end of the castle without speaking a word. Princess Llithus was sitting, with her youngest daughter Llilu, when they arrived. Both rose for him and the queen. "King Edmund," He didn't see the oldest princess anywhere. She was Lucy's age.

"Princesses," He gave a quick bow. "Where is Princess Liliana?" he asked and hurried to sit so the lady wouldn't have to stand.

"She left with Her Majesty Queen Lucy and His Majesty Prince Hilio this morning," Llithus announced without stuttering. She slipped back into her seat and poured the three of them a drink. "How did the negotiations go?" She looked to her mother-in-law.

"I fear His Majesty might have hit a wall with Hellon," She added a four sugars to her tea as she spoke. Then looked to Edmund. "Hellon is very wise, but also _very_ stubborn and set in his old ways."

Ed nodded and sipped his tea after adding a little milk. "It shouldn't harm our negotiations, but I'm afraid nothing will happen until the King returns."

Queen Hira nodded. "As he should this afternoon. No later than nightfall."

"Might I inquire as to the problem?" Edmund looked at the queen curiously. She was a very regal woman. A few years older than her husband, it seemed. Taller. Stout. Like her sons.

"There was an incident in the Red Mine. Two men started a conflict and it appears part of the entrance collapsed as a result."

"Oh no," Princess Llithus placed a lily-white hand on her chest. Blue eyes widened in concern.

"It's quite alright, dear. It was stopped and they don't believe anyone is trapped inside," The queen calmly sipped from her cup.

Edmund watched her closely. "Who was the attacker?" His dark eyes searched every detail on her face. Her calm body language. Her slow movements.

"I do not know, Your Grace."

He wondered what she wasn't telling him. Why had no one outside Terebinthia been made aware of these mines that were popping up all over the island? Surely they would have tried to sell the gemstones long ago. Rumor should have spread, but there had been no news. Not in Galma, not in Tashbaan. "I'm sorry you had to experience something like that. A year ago a mine in Narnia collapsed as well."

"Was anyone hurt?" the princess asked worriedly, her concern shifting effortlessly from queen to king. Her daughter was playing with a little wooden horse and seemed completely engrossed in the game.

Edmund nodded and remembered the days that followed the collapse. They had worked day and night, but he only remembered the nights. Lit up by torches. Air so thick you could hardly breathe. Thirty two Dwarves had been trapped inside. Only eight were found alive. "It took us three months to fully exhume those who had been buried."

"By the Lion. . ." Llithus whispered.

Queen Hira watched him silently. A little finger, gently placed on the flank of her tea cup, twitched. She seemed to care though not an ounce of emotion showed on her face. But Edmund knew better and the discovery soothed a tension he had hardly noticed until it was no longer there.

"I pray your situation does not resemble ours," he said and caught her eye.

Only then did the queen show the tiniest trace of concern, but it was enough for Edmund to latch on to. A flicker of fear shot across her face. _But fear of what? For whom?_

He knew about hiding one's feelings. He knew royals were trained to level their emotions in public. He knew because he and his siblings were undergoing the same training. Training designed by its very nature to be imprinted unto its students undetected. And at first it _had_ , but Susan picked up early on the cues to emotional control as they were gradually introduced by various tutors.

Edmund flinched when a page entered the garden. "Your Majesty, the King has returned."

Queen Hira stood up. "What news?"

"No deaths," The page offered a timid smile before he hurried off. The queen showed a modicum of relief.

"Are you alright, Queen Hira?" he asked carefully. She glanced at him and offered an uncharacteristically, tender smile.

"Very well, thank you, King Edmund."

"It's dangerous business, mining. How long have you been doing it?"

She sat back down. "Half a decade. We've become quite good at it," she said with absolute certainty and returned to her tea.

Edmund neglected to mention that the Dwarves had been mining for a thousand years and were still surprised sometimes. "If you ever require assistance I'll send for some of our best miners to help you."

"I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you," She didn't look at him as she spoke.

Only moments later the king entered the garden and relief broke the tension in the air. Hira rose to greet him though he seemed more focused on his guest. "King Edmund," He took a seat at the table. "My beautiful granddaughter," He kissed Llilu on her crown.

"Did anyone die, Grandpapa?" she asked.

He chuckled and sat down. "No, dear one. All is well."

"I was just offering our assistance in the mining process. We have very skilled miners in Narnia," Edmund cut in.

"Ah yes the Dwarves?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, but I believe the worst is over," He grasped his wife's hand and kissed it. She smiled and her entire countenance changed, softened, but only a second before it returned to its stony prior and _she_ returned her attention to the tea.

Edmund nodded and returned to his as well.

The rest of the afternoon was spent discussing anything but the trade-agreement, to Edmund's quiet umbrage. The king promised a rather lengthy discussion the following day in the presence of his sons and despite a growing feeling of exclusion, Edmund took it as a good sign.

He spent the night staring up at his grey tapestries, wondering what his brother was doing back in Narnia. Diplomacy was so much harder without Peter – or Susan – there to help him. He could only trust that Lucy would bring a sense of order to the proceedings.

* * *

TBC


	4. The King's Study

Chapter 4: The King's Study

They awoke early and took breakfast in the garden with princesses Llithus and her daughters. Edmund watched the large family join together around three tables. He watched his sister interact fluently with all and smiled as she did, though he felt a strange melancholy.

The king was mum and watchful, shrewd eyes gliding to Edmund every now and again as though trying to understand what he was witnessing.

They rejoined in a sitting room near the king's private quarters. They were seated at a round table, like the one Lucy had read about, and now only vaguely remembered, from Arthurian legends. The king opened by welcoming all and excusing Hellon which served to spike Edmund's vehement dislike for the man. He and Hellon would never get along.

As the doors closed the room quelled and a feeling of unease overcame the Narnian king.

"Thank you for joining us today, Queen Lucy and King Edmund," The king clapped his hands in welcome. "The reason I have asked my sons to join us is because I feel it necessary that all of them be familiar with the agreements we reach today," He looked at Lucy and smiled. "If the queen will excuse us? I'm sure she has more urgent matters to attend."

Her eyes widened and she glanced at Edmund, who stomped down a second spike of dislike. "My sister has the necessary qualifications to be here, King Baskar, as do I. She, doubly so seeing as it is _she_ , not I, who will attend these meetings in the future. In all fairness _I_ should be the one excused," he tacked on with a glance at Hellon's exit. He returned to the king with all the nonchalance he could muster while the man question processed the information he had just been given.

"But surely-" He looked from Edmund to his oldest son. Prince Bastian nodded to his father.

"With all due respect. Is it my age or my gender you object to?" Lucy asked in a suddenly very adult voice. One she seldom used. One Edmund didn't quite know when she perfected.

The king's face sagged in a peculiar way and he looked almost longingly at Edmund for guidance. With a clenching of his jaws Edmund took pity. "If there are no objections, my Lord?"

The king spent another second in dumbly shock before he nodded. "Yes," He looked once more at his sons. "Very well. Yes. Let's begin," He cleared his throat and gave the word to Edmund, knowing what Hellon had told him about the previous day's conference.

As he spoke Edmund looked from person to person at the table. "As I mentioned to Master Hellon yesterday, Narnia is distancing herself from slave trade. Every ship that docks on Narnian soil is subject to the same rules. Every vessel is searched upon arrival and again before departure."

"That sounds very noble, but as I'm sure Hellon has told you, we would lose merchants should we enforce that law," prince Baro rejoined in, what Edmund had come to learn, was a naturally mild voice.

He nodded. "Hellon mentioned as much and I suggested a possible solution to him."

"To lower docking prices and secure safe passage," the king interrupted. "My wife informed me of your proposal."

Edmund reclaimed his seat and waited. One finger tapped against the table before he stopped it. He knew the king had an opinion on the matter, but wanted _him_ to instigate it. Refusing to raise awareness to any type of hesitation. Even with that strange, longing he was too stubborn for that.

The king took notice and glanced at Lucy before he opened his mouth to speak. "What insurance do I have that my country will not be deprived because of this agreement?"

Edmund opened his mouth to utter the first, directly disrespectful retort since arriving had Lucy not interrupted him.

"Well you shouldn't be deprived of anything if you handle the sale of your precious stones and metals properly," She smiled, thinking she had a good point. "We have excellent advisors in Narnia who can help you determine the value of what you've found."

The king looked down in thought. His youngest interrupted whatever he was about to say. "And how will that work?"

Edmund took over. "I'll send an Albatross with word to Queen Susan. She will send word to the mines. Smithies from the north and appraisers will all come _here_. The Narnian appraisals will draw in others from around the world."

"And how much will it cost to lodge them?" prince Escar asked crassly. He earned a sour glare from his oldest brother for his tone.

But instead of angering the two royals, Lucy and Edmund both erupted into identical, bright smiles. It was Lucy who answered. "No more than what you will earn from having them here," She shared a glance with her brother. "You see, Narnian miners and smiths have some of the very best reputations. Reputations that have reached as far as Calormen. Even _here_."

"Once word gets out that Narnian miners are traveling to Terebinthia it won't be long before the rest of the world follows." Edmund finished, smile slipping away.

The king looked less uneasy and more intrigued, whilst Escar looked a little put out. "We could build more inns. Pass legislations particular to inn-keepers," the king mused.

Edmund nodded. "Profit from the visitors who _will_ come," He couldn't completely disregard the ill feeling in the pit of his stomach. The island would change. It would lose its serenity, but her people would survive. That seemed of greater importance.

"Very well…" The king sat back with a hand tapping his chin. "Very well indeed," He tried to keep composure as he looked at Edmund, but excitement was clearly blooming. "It seems you both surpass your reputations, Your Majesties."

Lucy again glanced at her brother, eager to both reassure, and be reassured, but saw traces of the doubt he'd confessed to earlier. She would have to address its reappearance at some point soon.

"You'll need to appoint someone to enforce the law once it passes. It's been our experience that mariners law has fallen to the wayside over the last hundred years for reasons I'm sure we all understand, but they _are_ necessary," Edmund said. "You'll need to keep an eye out. People are still frightened of Narnia and will attempt to protect themselves any way they can. It's your job to identify and stop those who might harm others in the process."

"Rest assured we will see that the law is abided once it passes," the king assured as he read over the scroll Edmund and Lucy had presented him with on the day of their arrival. It was a maritime legislative scroll from the last kingdom before Jadis. The first one to be edited, signed and billed in a hundred years.

"Might I suggest you appoint someone who inspires loyalty?" Lucy chirped. All the men looked at her, except her brother who just smiled softly and listened with pride. "I've found it works better if you lead by example."

He had never been as proud as he was that moment. "Positive reinforcement as opposed to negative consequences," he mumbled when the king still looked confused. "Don't just throw a decree at them, elect a representative."

Though befuddled, the king answered, "Yes of course," and somehow Lucy managed not to let it affect her. Her smile even widened a little.

"Your Majesty?" He looked up. "Might I make a suggestion as to whom it might be?"

Baskar nodded.

She let her eyes drift to the youngest of the princes. Only fifteen years of age, he was as of yet barely an adult. "Prince Hilio has shown admirable qualities," she said primly.

Edmund knew what Lucy had noticed though _she_ mightn't yet. All she most likely understood was that Hilio was trustworthy, honorable and easy to talk to. She didn't need to know anything else about him to like him. Edmund, on the other hand, understood quite suddenly how and why she felt that way. "Your soldiers aren't aware of it, King Baskar, but they look to him whenever he speaks. He commands attention without any effort," He sat calmly under the king's wide-eyed stare and felt Lucy tap a solidary finger against his thigh under the table.

The men all appeared stunned. "But certainly-" The king stopped when he realized he had no reason for not appointing his son with the honorable task.

"He's a child," Baro interjected, less than thrilled.

Edmund noticed that Bastian had remained silent all through the proceedings. "What does the Crown Prince think?" All eyes turned to Bastian.

He spent a long moment, looking at his intimidated little brother. Not really looking at the boy in front of him, but almost looking through him. Edmund saw Peter in that expression. "If he agrees, I think it will be a _very_ good idea," Hilio smiled thinly in the glow of his brother's praise and Edmund instantly related. There truly was no other feeling like it.

"Though, perhaps not until he is a little older."

Hilio sagged slightly, but still looked relieved. Edmund felt something settle inside himself and turned at the king when he spoke.

"King Edmund, Queen Lucy, I believe we have an accord," Baskar rose and grasped each of their hands with a smile, summoning Hellon for quill and inkwell.

Lucy smiled at Edmund with arched brow, as if to say ' _That wasn't so hard, now was it?_ '. Edmund smiled back and felt surety settle a little deeper. "Your Grace?" The king turned, about to sign the legislation. Hellon hovering nervously by his shoulder. "If you don't object I would like to see your mines before _Ouranios_ departs? I'm sure my sister would as well," The king had put pen to paper.

And then, in a lovely uncomplicated reaction he grinned widely and signed the bill in a carefree scrawl. Passing it to Hellon who rapidly made off before Baskar spilled anymore ink on it. "Certainly! We shall all take a trip," He looked at his sons, a couple of whom tried to hide exasperation. The he glanced at the table, as though surprised to find the bill gone. "Fetch Hellon for me, please," he ordered a guard who leant out the door and relayed the order. A strange voice yelled after the man and an amused silence fell over the room.

The harrowed advisor rushed back in. Apparently the old man had been rushed so much he was still holding the scroll, waiting for ink to dry. "Hellon. Inform the stable boys to ready seven horses and a small detail to accompany us to Blue Mine," He looked at Edmund. "Would you like us to inform your captain where we are going?"

He arched a brow at the question, but managed not to sound flippant as he answered. "Yes please."

"Very well. Let it be done," He shooed Hellon away and reached an arm around Lucy. "Now, my Queen, have you ever seen a sapphire before?"

She shook her head and smiled.

"They are like fallen stars, just waiting to be picked up," All Edmund really noticed was her laughter as the king gladly delved into one tale after the other, all the way to the stables. They were mounted within a quarter of an hour and set off without much ado.

The ride to the excavation site took half the day, riding in a slow pace by the mountainous paths. They reached the mouth of the mine a little before noon. The curved mountain pass widened into a broad, dug up groove, lined on either side with mounds of dirt and bedrock. They turned the last bend and came upon the mouth of the Blue Mine. It was unlike anything either Pevensie had seen before. The mines in Narnia were works of art because of the people who created them. Dwarves were many things. Sometimes cruel, often cynical and hypocritical, always single-minded, spirited, passionate and empathetic – though many were loathed to admit it. And all shared one trait, one Edmund valued above all others: Aesthetical. It was true for one as it was for all, that Dwarves enjoyed beauty. Harmonious buildings, objects or places. Every single work of theirs, be it a wooden handle or a fifty foot mine opening, was made to be esthetically pleasing. There was never clutter, never a nail out of place.

Most Dwarves did one thing and did it well. In comparison the Blue Mine looked like a juvenile Giant had been beginnings of attempting to make a sand-castle. Rubble was strewn everywhere. Trenches were only half dug. Support beams were scattered in disorganized piles while they waited to be mounted. Off to the side he saw mounds of something that looked like wilted weeds. People were shoveling them into blazing fires in a long line. Working methodically and without pause.

Again, Edmund felt a stab of foreboding. Everything he had seen so far made the entire island seem like a paradise. A sheltered haven that the outside would encroach upon all too soon. Once Calormenes learned about the precious stones being dug up in the mines they would come here in far greater numbers than ever before. Terebinthia would transform from a simple place of happiness to a bejeweled city. Greed would follow and it would ravish it. Dishonesty would come creeping from the docking ships and slither its way into the royal halls.

For an instant his imagination took over and he almost saw its ruin. The House of Baskar would fall in a sea of fire while Calormenes battled over mining-rights in the mud. He glanced at the smiling king, so at odds with Edmund's ill feeling, and swallowed.

"How deep is the mine, King Baskar?" Lucy asked as they made their way inside. The roof of the opening rose almost thirty feet into the air. The ceiling sparkled with little, blue shimmers here and there. The sunlight danced around the cavity where men were digging them out.

"It is a two day walk from one end to the other. Our master miner is so very excited I'm not certain he will want to stop until he reaches the other side of the mountain."

Edmund wondered if that would actually happen. Given the Terabinthians' recent discovery of wealth it seemed likely that they wouldn't stop until there was nothing left but rock. It saddened him somewhat. It felt wrong to pull every precious stone from the earth where it had made its home for the last thousand years. The Dwarves would have

He followed quietly behind his sister and the king, alongside three of the princes. Prince Hilio had elected to remain outside. Edmund had guessed, from the way he looked at the mine, that he wasn't very comfortable with the idea of going underground. Edmund wasn't either to be honest, but a gentle nudge from Lucy had worked to allay any misgivings upon entry.

Besides it would have been poor taste to decline and it would have meant Lucy going in alone, seeing as most of the Narnian company had elected to remain outside as well. Edmund had known of the Narnian beliefs beforehand and had assured his captain that it would be quite safe. Baskar had ten of his most loyal, armed guards with them and Edmund had quietly reveled in Celer's uncomfortable expression at the news.

"Do you see the stalactites?" the king asked and gestured to massive outcroppings on the ceiling.

"Is this a part of the mine?" Edmund asked. They had walked away from the entrance and taken a left turn through a marked opening. The mouth of the doorway to some sort of chamber. The mine entrance still let in mounds of light which, even in the natural cave, caught in the outcroppings along with the torches.

"Very astute, King Edmund," Bastian answered. "No, they're caverns. We discovered them when we began mining and have yet to discover all their secrets. They stretch deep into the mountains." The prince and young king shared a look. "We mine _around_ them."

Edmund glanced back towards the sun, but didn't comment. The floor was sloped, but at such a wide angle that it didn't feel like descending.

It suddenly occurred to him that the chamber they were entering wasn't man-made. No one was actively mining in the large cavern, but there were men walking around nevertheless, inspecting the walls for cracks and crevices, each with incendiary liquids and torches. Several were dressed as scholars, picking at dark corners and putting things into bottles and canisters. He frowned at the odd display.

"We have more excavation sites just north of here as well if you wish to see?" Baskar offered.

Edmund felt a little flushed over venturing into yet _another_ cave, but smiled and shook his head no before Lucy could jump at the chance. They had only been in the mine a little while and already he was beginning to miss the sky. He had seen enough.

"Your Majesties!" a tall man popped up behind the party. He clapped his hands and welcomed them all as a Faun would welcome family into his hollow.

"King Edmund, Queen Lucy, I would like to introduce Bilfred. Our Master Miner."

Edmund nodded in greeting and Lucy did a lovely, little curtsey. "My King, your son calls for you outside. He wishes to have word."

The king bobbed his head at his sons and the visiting royals. "I shall be back," He kissed Lucy's hand and departed with a smile.

Edmund longed to follow.

Bilfred reached out and kissed Lucy's hand as well. It seemed fanfare came very natural to Terebinthian gentlemen, even _if_ it was a bit more forced in Bilfred than the King, but he deserved praises for trying. "A Lady such as you shouldn't be forced to endure introductions in a gloomy setting such as this," Bilfred said. "Allow me to escort you outside," seemingly not shy in their presence.

Edmund almost jumped at the chance to turn back, but froze when a rumble shook something inside him. "What was that?" He looked curiously at the gathered. The three princes, the eight remaining guards, a handful of workers, the Master Builder, and Lucy.

"Just a shiver," Bilfred chuckled. "She's awfully ticklish."

Baro came over and put a hand on Lucy's back. He looked as worried as Edmund felt. The prince chuckled awkwardly with the master when a second rumble made the walls quiver. Only when it didn't immediately stop did the master builder stop smiling.

Bastian came over and grasped Edmund's arm lightly. "Perhaps we _should_ leave?" he suggested. The Crown Prince was watching the walls with concern. Then it stopped.

"Yes. Perhaps we should," Baro agreed. They were about to guide Lucy and Edmund out when a third rumble swept their feet out from under them. Men cried out in surprise and the guards nervously gripped their weapons. Some grabbed at the walls to remain steady.

Edmund turned in the direction of the exit. He knew Celer was out there. Waiting with five guards. He wanted nothing more than to sprint towards the light as fast as he could, but a cry knocked the very idea from his mind.

"Edmund!"

It was Lucy's voice that rang out seconds before a wall next to her crumbled. It was as though the earth solidified in a wave. "Lucy, here!" Edmund held out a hand. More cries rang out and he saw, to his horror, rocks falling from the ceiling as the rumbling intensified. Black blotches in front of the bright opening, until what dim sunlight that had been was blocked out. Rocks and dirt cascaded down in rivulets that spilled over the cavern floor.

" _Edmund!_ " This time more panicked. Lucy's warm, little hand in his.

He turned and pulled her behind him before the rubble could reach them. They turned and ran deeper into the cave to escape the landslide. The Crown Prince, his brothers and their men were close behind. "Run, your Majesties!" someone cried.

All ran, but a bellow from the depths of the earth swallowed their screams as they were buried alive.

* * *

 **And so it begins...**

 **TBC**


	5. Blue Mine

A/N: Thanks a million to those following, reading, liking, and reviewing :* You're all awesome and, dudes, I totally love you!

* * *

Chapter 5: The Blue Mine

The people outside the Blue Mine swore they had never seen anything like it. The wave of soil that poured from the mine-entrance, grabbing and crushing everything in its reach. Those who could, rushed out of the way before they themselves were buried. As Hilio watched, the clicking of light stones was the only sound left after the roar of collapsing soil. Dust hung heavily in the air and obscured sight. Some cried or moaned, but as of yet there were no cries for action or organization.

All who watched in the brilliant sunshine knew the truth. Not one of them needed to see to know the horrible truth. Inside the mine was a king, a queen, a crown prince and two princes, trapped. Prince Hilio and his father looked on in abject horror at the collapsed mountainside that had swallowed their family whole. Hilio didn't recall running towards it, screaming.

* * *

The few men who survived inside very quickly became organized. "Be still, men!" Bilfred called. His deep voice boomed between the cavern walls. "Let the dust settle."

"Edmund, what's happening?" Lucy was crouched by his side. She was shaking and though most torches had been extinguished by the puff of air and dust, he could easily see the whites of her eyes.

"Just sit still. They're going to dig us out, but I'm going to see if I can help," He tilted her face up and waited for some sign of comprehension. She was covered in a fine layer of dust along with most everything else. When she nodded he rose and approached the crown prince who was speaking with his brothers. "What's going to happen now?" His voice quivered, but it was beyond his control or inclination to stop it.

"Oh, King Edmund, forgive me," Bastian knelt in front of Edmund as though he were a child that needed comfort.

In Edmund's own eyes he was, but a fact that had never been less important than at that moment. "Bastian, what's the procedure for this?" If only there was a plan, he could remain calm. There _had_ to be a plan.

The crown prince blinked the terror and wiped his expression as he searched his mind a moment. It was the Master Miner who answered. "We wait, Your Highness. The protocol is to _wait_. We can't start excavating from the inside because the entire mountain might collapse."

They were in the caves, he realized. They were in those _bloody_ caves. Edmund contained the sigh that so desperately wanted out. Instead coughed a little and wiped some dust from under his nose. He glanced at the dusty brothers. "So we sit and fiddle our thumbs?" It wasn't very king-like, but he figured it was within his right to be a _little_ upset.

"I am sorry," Bastian lamented with teary eyes, but hastily rose to his feet when Master Bilfred approached.

"My Kings," He nodded to each in greeting. "I'm setting the men to clear out the area around the exit. I daren't do any more since I don't want to risk collapse-"

"Yes, so you said," Edmund cut in morosely. "How deep in are we?" He had to force himself to breathe slowly just thinking about it. Every nerve in his skin was twitching in panic. He wanted _out_.

"Only about a hundred feet or so."

He sighed then and rubbed a hand down his face. It came off, as everything else, grey with dust. He was sweating as well, it seemed. _Lovely_. "And how much of the tunnel do you suspect collapsed?"

"I fear it may extend to the very front of the mine," He looked around at the previously admired stalactites. "It seems the only reason we're still alive is because of this cave. The walls wouldn't have stood for so long were they man-made," Despite the praises to nature's handiwork he didn't look relieved. In fact he looked increasingly more upset with every passing second. Men had begun setting a perimeter to shield off the _back_ of the cave, as opposed to lighting up the front where the soldiers were helping move rolling stones.

 _What's back there?_ a deceitful voice in Edmund's mind whispered.

"No, but perhaps if they were Dwarf-made," He bit out, but shed the thought in an instant and turned. His panic was giving way to anger, he hysterically observed. He jogged back to Lucy, who was still sitting in the same place, only with a worker by her side now. He looked up as Edmund took the seat next to her.

"She won't speak."

Edmund grabbed his sister's chin in his hand and looked into her eyes like Peter often did. "It's alright. She doesn't have to," To her he said, "We'll get out of here soon, Lu. You'll be back in the sunlight where you belong," He smiled and tricked a very frail one out of her as well. Then, without a word, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, ignoring the way dust ticked his throat and puffed out of their clothes.

* * *

They spent almost two hours sitting. He and Lucy. She fell asleep against his side for a moment while Edmund kept watch. He considered going over to help with clearing the tunnel, but decided against it when he realized it would mean waking his sister. And possibly agitating the oh-so carefully contained panic he still felt inside. A while later Baro approached, sweating had darkened the dust to grime and it now ran in ribbons down his face and neck. Everyone was helping it seemed.

"How is she?" he whispered and sat.

Edmund glanced down at her sleeping form. "Better once we get out."

"Well Bilfred tells me that the excavation has surely begun on the other side. It shouldn't be more than a few days we'll have to spend in this place," he said with a grimace around the cave.

A few days sounded like an awfully long time without food or water, locked in the dark. "You don't like it here either, I assume?" It reminded Edmund of things best reserved for nightmares.

Baro chuckled softly. "No one likes it here. The only reason the miners are so calm is because they trust their friends to get them out. The only reason my _brothers_ are so calm is because they have to be."

Edmund nodded.

Baro looked at hum curiously. "You seem oddly calm as well."

The Just King smiled. "I think it's her breathing," he said, referring to Lucy's deep, even exhales. Baro smiled with. "It's very soothing," Also, Edmund felt tired beyond norm. The shock was wearing off despite his best efforts it seemed.

At the collapse further out someone called a halt. A quiver rippled through the cave walls, and instead of ebbing out it escalated. Lucy woke with a flinch and stiffened. Edmund and Baro pulled her to her feet.

"The cave is unstable," Bilfred called, "fall _back_!" waving his arms like a mad-man while the princes were evacuated by the few guards. Eight, Edmund counted.

They all quickly hurried deeper in. Lucy looked wide-eyed and terrified, being woken in such a rude manner, but obligingly allowed her brother's manhandling. They stopped about fifty feet from the collapse and watched to see if the walls would start crumbling in on themselves. "What choice do we have if they can't dig us out, Sire?" one of the soldiers asked Bastian, who had sided up next to his brothers and the visiting sovereigns.

"That question is better addressed to Master Bilfred, Captain."

Lucy was shaking again. Edmund sat her down and kneeled in front of her. "We'll get out of this, Lu. I promise," he whispered and put a hand on her cheek. She was staring at the blocked exit. "Lucy?"

When she looked up there was an uncanny expression in her eyes. She stared straight at her older brother. "What if we die in here, Edmund?" Her voice was so quiet and hollow, he doubted anyone else heard.

Desperate for any kind of insurance to offer he leaned in and wrapped her in his arms. "We won't," He squeezed. "I _promise_ ," She relaxed a little against him, but didn't reply. A tiny hand grabbed on to his tunic sleeve.

"We need to move further back for safety," Bilfred announced a few minutes later to the waiting men. He turned to the crown prince. "With your leave, my Lord, I would like to send a crew into the caves and search for another exit."

Edmund looked up sharply. He knew it was a bad idea to move and doing so could only indicate one thing. They weren't getting out the way they came in. "Perhaps we should all go?" he suggested.

Bastian looked at him a second in wonder. "Yes," Then down. "Yes. That would be wise," He looked back up at Bilfred. "Is it possible there's another way out?"

The miner looked away in thought. "We've yet to examine the western part of the cave system. The mines don't go further than about twenty miles into the mountain, around these caves. The caves might show us a way out."

"We should do that then?" Escar asked his brother. It was the first time he had spoken since the collapse. The soldier in him salivating at the sight of movement.

Bastian nodded. "We should. Master Bilfred, please organize your men for departure."

The miner nodded and left, barking out orders. Edmund turned back to his sister. "You hear that?" She nodded. "Are you alright to walk?" Her expression turned exasperated for a moment before she nimbly rose to her feet. She didn't let go of Edmund's hand though, and he didn't shake it off. Truth be told he needed the comfort as much, if not more, than his sister.

"They're ready, my Lord," Bilfred said when he returned. He had a grim expression compared to the one Edmund had seen on him a few hours before. "With your permission I'd like to leave two men here in case they break through the entrance?"

Bastian nodded and turned to his brothers. The three royals looked at each other with varying degrees of shock and acceptance before Bastian once again addressed to the two Narnians. "Are you ready, my King and Queen?"

Lucy nodded and pulled Edmund with her ahead of the princes. Edmund lightened somewhat at the courage his sister possessed. Even faced with, what he perceived as, numbing terror she took to leading as easy as dancing. It was a quality he hoped to emulate one day, but doubted he ever would. It was a Peter-and-Lucy-thing.

They followed a path deeper into the cave. Pylons stuck out of the rocky floor. Spear-like stalactites jutted from the ceiling and sometimes even met in the middle in a kiss. Trenches and gorges opened up along the walls. Black vines wormed their way up the sides like veins. The company only had five torches dispersed between nearly two dozen men. Baro carried one as he walked next to Edmund at the front. Master Bilfred had another at the very tip of the group. The rest were along the edges of the party, illuminating the walls in flickers and twists.

"But what about supplies?" he heard Escar whispering to his oldest brother.

"Let's not worry about things we don't have," Bastian answered.

Edmund couldn't say he agreed, though the thought hadn't crossed his mind before. He subconsciously began scouring the rips and cracks in the cave for water. He doubted they would survive much more than a couple of days without it.

His sister was walking surefooted in front of him. She still hadn't let go of his hand so he followed quietly and met her eye every time her searching gaze crossed his. He nudged the back of her head in comfort. She was so very brave his little sister.

He was sure songs would be written about that bravery. His brief smile was left unseen by her in the darkness, but the thought persisted and lit up his eyes the next time they crossed Lucy's. Her expression softened and she smiled a little as well.

They walked for what the timekeeper believed to be about seven hours in complete silence, until Bilfred suddenly called to attention. He came scurrying back through the gloomy tunnels. "My Prince, there is a lake ahead," heaving air into his lungs.

Everyone looked relieved at the prospect of water. True enough there _was_ a lake. Or more like a pond. The water was pitch-black like much else outside range of their torches. Escar sipped it carefully and announced it was safe to drink. Edmund had heard a bit about the second youngest prince since their first meeting and knew he had seen battle. A general who had diligently served in something the Terebinthians referred to as the Battle of Pigs. And unlike his two older brothers Escar was not only trained, but eager to sail out and defend his country should a threat arise. He was probably the one most likely to survive should they remain stuck in here, he crossly thought.

Everyone except the royals sat down around the lake. A worker brought Lucy and Edmund some water in a pouch and returned to his own drink. The dark cave ballooned out around them. So high and deep that the torches never reached the ceiling. Only the tips of the longest stalactites reached the flickering, yellow light. The air felt fresher here than in front, at the cave-in though. A few times Edmund even thought he felt a breeze. "You don't suppose there's an exit around?" he asked Baro who was speaking softly with Bastian and Escar. No one answered so Edmund let it drop.

A search team was assembled and Escar joined wile the crown prince and Baro kept Lucy and Edmund company. Bilfred joined his men and left three of the five torches for the royals, warning them to stay away from the walls.

Edmund wondered what had the miners so worried about the cave system. They were far from the collapse and he saw no cracks in the walls. All he saw was stone and darkness. He got up and walked a bit in the direction the party had left. "I've felt a breath of fresh air a few times now. I wouldn't be surprised if there was an exit somewhere," He looked back at the royals.

"We were just discussing how to progress from here," Bastian said. He had been speaking in low tones with one of the miners that had stayed behind. Baro was sitting with Lucy for the moment.

Edmund had found a way to keep a lid on the worst of his panic and was now beginning to feel more and more exhausted. Lucy looked tired as well and an odd sadness had crept into her eyes. Not for the first time he wished Peter was there. "I wonder how far we've gone," He gazed into the black ceiling, spotting the glowing tip of a hanging spike right above his head. The rocks glittered in the dim light.

"About five miles if I had to guess," a miner said, his eyes searching the ceiling as well. "We should be nearing the northern shore."

"The most magnificent view in the world," Bastian said with a sad smile and briefly reminded the others of his father.

Edmund felt a little stab of sympathy for young Crown Prince. He was probably just as lost as the rest only with the added sense of responsibility, not only for his family and his men, but for Lucy and Edmund as well. "My sister will be delighted," Edmund tried to smile in an attempt to brighten his disposition. It worked a little.

"How fares she?" Bastian asked with a glance back at Lucy and Baro.

"She's tired," As he said it his eyes became leaded. He knew the older man saw it, but was gracious enough not to comment. Placing a hand on his sword, Edmund suddenly realized he had very nearly left it at the Storm. Something warned him it might yet come in handy and suddenly the ill feeling made more sense. Had Aslan perhaps guided him?

"I hope you don't hold my men responsible for my family's greed." he confessed in a meek voice. The soldier who stood a few steps away looked up in surprise. He stealthily backed away so the royals could have some privacy.

"I won't," Edmund promised. He was never again going into a mine, but the crown prince would feel none of that hesitation. "The collaboration between our nations will proceed as planned once we're out of here," He smiled when Bastian did, though neither one seemed to reach their eyes.

They turned to Lucy and Baro just as a call went through the mines. "There's an exit!" It was the voice of a young man. Flames flared to life in the distance. Edmund and Bastian shared a glance before Edmund whirled about and went to fetch his sister. He greeted her softly and helped her to her feet. Baro excused himself and joined his brother.

As Bilfred and his men thundered back into the Hall his voice rang out in the curious silence. "There is a way, my Lord. But it's barred."

"By what?" Baro asked and stepped forward. His anxiousness to leave, making him rash.

The master builder flicked his eyes from one royal to another. "By the ash vines, my Prince," he answered sadly.

"What are ash vines?" Edmund asked, and glanced very quickly at the cave walls. The darkness suddenly seemed a little more alive. His sister was tucked protectively under his arm where she stared at Bilfred. The crown prince and master miner shared quick glances that wore thin on Edmund's already haggard patience. "Well?"

"They're plants, Your Majesty," Bilfred whispered. He sounded like he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole.

"Plants?" Edmund arched a brow. " _Plants_ have you looking like there's an army between us and freedom?"

"Not just plants, King Edmund," Bastian said quietly and turned to the king and queen. "Ever since we began mining we noticed the vines. They grow here in the caverns and don't seem to need sunlight like other living things," He took a step closer. "We realized early on that the vines were very aggressive. Men who hurt themselves while working in the caves, who _cut_ themselves, would die a few days later."

"From what?" Lucy asked. Her eyes, dark and calculating.

The crown prince looked sad to be the one to tell them. "From internal injuries, your Majesty. The plants are drawn to the smell of blood. They infected the men and began…growing inside them," He swallowed his last confession as a mere whisper.

"What?" Edmund's blood drained from his face. He had noticed that several of the miners had sustained small cuts on their faces. He suddenly panicked, thinking Lucy might have one as well, and that her cordial might not work. His eyes shot down to hers, but Baro interrupted him.

"I asked her if she had been injured back at the collapse. Specifically if she had any cuts."

Edmund met Lucy's eyes with infinite relief. She was staring at him exactly the same way. "You didn't ask me."

"We figured you would tell us," Escar said.

And then in an instant Edmund's demeanor changed. His arm slipped from Lucy's shoulders and he turned to face to royals and their men. "You took my sister into this mine, knowing about these plants," It rose in pitch. His shoulders sought up to his ears as anger roiled through him.

"You were never in any danger, King Edmund," Bastian looked a little nervous. Baro and the men as well. "Poison killed the plants near the exit of these caves. They have never infected men with no open wounds. My father has been around them many times," The two royals didn't look frightened and the master miner just looked a little confused.

"You took a child into a mine that was full of flesh-eating plants?" His voice rose to an incredulous shriek.

"Enough!" Escar shouted. "Fighting won't get us out of here. We need something to cut the plants away."

The young King swallowed down the urge to yell at them and threaten them with his sword. His frustration over how easily the adults seemed to accept his anger and brush it off as a temper tantrum infuriated him.

"Swords and knives," Bilfred said with a nod. "Fire works better, though."

He looked over the irregular walls with renewed suspicion, before he swallowed his pride and forced himself back into the conversation. "They feel pain?" he asked Bilfred curtly.

"Discomfort certainly," he agreed. "The live ones emit a sound when burned," He glanced at his crown prince. "They scream."

Edmund was moving further towards some strange limbo between utterly panicked and completely indifferent. The only thing that mattered was getting his sister out of there and he'd utilize every skill to manage it. "Very well then," He gestured to Bilfred. "Lead the way," He decided forward motion head-first into a bush of flesh eating plants was a better alternative to stagnation, possibly resulting in starvation and dehydration.

The master miner showed them to the possible exit. It was quite impossible to know for sure since the web of vines was so thick that no light was let through at all, but a faint whiff of air suggested there might be something other than rock behind the web. "Where do we start?" Escar asked the miner. Some of the workers were already carving away the plants without care for themselves. Edmund noticed how several of them had been injured in the collapse and now sported minor cuts and bruises. The cuts concerned him. Would they be eaten away from the inside by some nefarious weed? Would he _see_ them die? Could it happen to him?

Bilfred pointed to a spot just above a monolith and shooed more men ahead. Edmund exhaled deeply and glanced at Lucy before he joined them with his sword. He heard Bastian make a small sound of concern, but thankfully didn't argue. The very last thing Edmund needed right now was to be treated like a child.

They began hacking away at the black vines, careful not to touch them with their bare hands. Princes Baro and Escar had quickly joined the workers and soldiers while Bastian kept Lucy company. Edmund realized with a rising horror that the plants moved whenever touched. They emitted a low whine and curled in on themselves, like the orange, puffy corals that lived just north of the Glasswater spillway. Only black and slithering. Their surface reminded him almost of suede or some form of hide, coarse but soft, and inside of each vine was the vilest thing he had ever laid eyes upon. Gelatinous, black flesh jiggled and ripped free in long, oily strands. Black as night and with a foul odor he could only vaguely compare to the stench of rotten eggs. They contained hardly any juice, but seemed wet and sticky all the same. Dotted around, in clusters – nay _nests!_ – of vicious growth, were bulging pods that puffed out tiny clouds of spores when touched or liberated of their beds.

The rumors of the vileness of these plants didn't seem so very farfetched any more.

"Keep the torches back!" Bilfred barked. "One spark and the whole place will fizz off," He let out a nervous giggle.

Edmund swallowed the bile when he cut one and black strings clung to his shirt sleeve. It smelled _worse_ than rotten eggs. Almost sulfuric. The vines kept making their low screeching noises as they curled in on themselves and suddenly revealed a tiny glimmer of light. Too bright to be anything but the sun. A great heave of energy ripped through the men and as one all started working feverishly to escape the dark, quiet hell. Those with no existing wounds chopped more eagerly, but were careful to avoid any cuts to their hands and legs. Those already injured seemed almost manic or possessed in their intensity to escape and breathe clear air again.

Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, they exposed more of what turned out to indeed be an exit. The tunnel opened up behind the wall of vines, into an ante room of sorts, before a massive exit opened several meters above them. Revealing a warm, yellow sun. A chorus of relief ripped through the men.

Light streamed into the black cave as half the wall was cut away and outshone their torches. Edmund figured it was a little bright for the time of day, but was mostly just happy to be out. In their vigor, the wounded men began tearing at the vines with their bare hands. Edmund's breath stuttered out of him, astonished that they were actually brave enough to touch the plants with their bare hands even though they might not be infected. He wondered how certain death was for those who broke skin around these things. He glanced at Lucy, who was standing on her tippy-toes, watching the sunlight with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.

For a brief moment he fretted over what a plant like this could do if it wasn't controlled. If it adapted to grow outside in the sun it could smother the world. He locked his jaw and decided that he would find a way to shut the mining down, regardless of the fiscal losses. Obviously there were other things beside gemstones in the Terebinthian bedrock.

When a man sized hole had been made Bilfred tried to call the most vigorous of his men down, but they either ignored him or they simply couldn't hear. They tugged at the sturdy vines until a large rock slid out of place and thumped heavily onto a nest a few feet down. The man who had shifted it froze at his master's cry. There was a moment of suspense before the walls around them began to hum. A slight quiver of air surged out from the cavernous depths along with the sound.

Edmund reacted out of instinct, brotherly instinct as opposed to that of self-preservation. "Lucy! Get up here," His gloves were covered in black fluids, but she herself had donned a pair of huge gloves. Obviously a loan from one of the workers. Baro removed his own and pushed her up the rocks, careful to keep her as far from the vines as possible, and she scrambled her way up to him. When her hand grabbed his he pulled her towards the small exit and pushed her through. The hum fell to a roar and the walls began shaking, the intensity not rising, but not falling either. " _Bastian_ ," Though the tremors were enough to begin and knock loose some of the smaller stones in looming clicks and thumps.

The crown prince moved quickly like his brothers and their men. He waved for Edmund to jump through and with only a second's consideration he did just that and followed his sister out. He slipped through the hole and began scrambling up the rocky tunnel. The light that was before a pinprick opened like a wave of blinding pain until he had to close his eyes in order to continue and was met with nothingness. Then warmth of the sun once again on his skin and the sense of falling, but it only lasted a second. The impact jarred him when he landed on his shoulder. He warily opened his eyes and saw Lucy a few feet back as she was anxiously watching the exit, waiting for others to exit. The wall maintained its persistent rumble behind him and larger stones began to rattle loose. Vines began to shriek as they were crushed.

He rolled to his feet when more men came through and fell just as he had. He helped move them away until the last ones were out. Then, as if the cave had waited for them to leave it gave an obstinate burp before it shivered and the entrance collapsed. The vines trapped under the rubble screamed in their tinny voices, as curling fingers reached outwards, but were denied.

He closed his eyes and sighed, thanking Aslan they was once again under protection of His golden sun.

Unseen by any of the men, due to their haste, Lucy had wandered away from the collapse, not even noticing when the cave opening piled in on itself. She had only gone so far that she was out of the collapse radius, but far enough to have spotted something that drew her attention like as her first steps into Narnia once had been drawn from her. Her back was turned to the soldiers, the workers, the princes and her king. Her keen eyesight was locked on something she couldn't begin to comprehend.

Though she hadn't yet confirmed her worry, the young queen knew already then that she was no longer on Terebinthia, indeed even in Narnia. "Edmund?" she called without turning. Her voice was a faint echo of itself.

Her brother helped Bastian to his feet and dusted himself off as he turned. What he saw first was his sister's back. Her yellow riding suit and long hair. The little bottle of cordial caught the light a second, but when the flash vanished his eyes drifted the vista beyond her.

A city unlike any he had ever seen was stretched out for miles and miles. It stretched from horizon and back. It stretched so far there was no visible end in sigh. In the sky hung a massive, yellow sun at its apex which was already burning his sensitive skin. The anxious calls among the men silenced as they, one-by-one, discovered what the little queen had and forgot about those they had left behind.

The city upon which they gazed was spread out like a labyrinth. White roofs and delicate arches connected buildings in an intricate web, very much a mirror image of the ash vines. In the shadows of most of the buildings closest to them they spotted easily more of the same vines. Large nests, like spider webs, gave the shadows unnatural textures.

Wiping his eyes once, and then again, did nothing to change the vision that had Edmund enthralled. He turned to Bastian, jaw hanging and whispered. "Bastian, what is this?"

The crown prince looked more lost than Edmund had seen him so far. His eyes were fixed upon the quiet city and he slowly began to shake his head. "I don't know, but nowhere on Terebinthia do you find this, Your Grace."

Edmund's stomach dropped, his temperature spiked and his mouth went dry. He turned to his sister and the city again and wondered where exactly the caves had led them.

* * *

TBC


	6. The Elliptical Well

A/N: I love you :* Just remember that.

* * *

Chapter 6: The Elliptical Well

They quickly realized they would have to find shelter from the sun.

The unknown city was spread out before them like an ocean of white stone and dry air. Everything was dead silent. Only the sound of their muttered conversations broke the monotony of the blowing wind. The massive sun hadn't moved since they had arrived, though Edmund estimated it had been almost two hours.

"The priority should be finding water," Escar told his oldest brother.

Bastian nodded. He still looked pale from the shock and Ed doubted it would wear off anytime soon. They needed someone to lead and the future king of Terebinthia seemed ill equipped for the task. "We should split up," Edmund spoke. He and Lucy were sharing a skin of water they had been given by one of the miners. Everyone turned to him. "I agree with Escar. Water takes priority. We should split up and search the area."

The princes looked at each other before Baro stood and pulled his older brother up as well. "Very well, King Edmund. You and your sister should come with us. Escar will lead," Edmund nodded and stood with Lucy right beside him. "Bilfred, you take half the men with you. Search the area for anything that even remotely resembles a well."

The master miner nodded and quickly divvied his men into two groups. Edmund looked at the ones in theirs a little more closely. Some were soldiers. Others were miners. Then there was one man who looked like a healer, or perhaps rather like a hermit who had taken leave of his wits years passed. One of two. His younger, and slightly better groomed, colleague had gone with Bilfred. The one who stayed with them had slightly distant eyes like his fellow servants of science. Like he preferred the company of plants over humans any day, Edmund assumed. Ed recognized him as one of the Terebinthians who had been working in the caves when the mine collapsed.

They set out and Lucy dutifully took his hand as they walked.

He had to remind himself that his sister was still a child sometimes. Though she had grown so much in the years she had been queen she was still far from adulthood. Not that he ever wanted her to change. _He_ had already lost what little childhood he had after Jadis and feared the day his baby sister stopped watching him through the eyes of a child. Peter, Susan and he were enough. They didn't need their youngest sister weathered by her experiences as well. He realized it might be a little late to worry about that.

"Are you alright?" he whispered as they walked. They had entered the street level of the vast city and were walking in the shadows of the tall buildings. The vines were everywhere and the whimsical healer absently warned them not to get too close whilst he walked around and poked at the bloody things. Fear twisted his stomach at the thought of Lucy or himself getting infected.

"Better," she answered in a small voice.

"Hungry?" he guessed with a shrewd look in his eye.

She smiled and showed she had a missing tooth in the right side of her mouth. One of her last baby teeth had fallen out on their way to Terebinthia.

"Me too," he whispered conspiratorially. Her grip on his hand lightened a little and he knew he was making headway. "Can't wait to explore this place," he muttered up towards the sun-rimmed rooftops, attempting to make light of the situation. The sky was the clearest blue.

"It seems awfully big," she said as she too looked up.

"Means there's more to explore," He smiled and tried his very best not to be afraid. In truth he didn't really want to do anymore exploring that day. What he wanted most of all was to return home. Home to Cair Paravel and his own room. Home to their family.

"But where to start?" Lucy asked, blissfully unaware of his dilemma.

" _Water_ ," a voice at the front of their group called.

"I think we've already begun," Edmund mumbled and guided them closer to the group.

One of the miners was perched over what did indeed look like a well. It was shaped like an ellipsis, with remnants of something that could have been exquisite carvings many, many years ago. But they had been sanded them down to shadows of their former selves. It was missing the crossbeams and wheel. No bucket for keeping the water either. Only worn down stones on either side that suggested it had once been little more than a pit.

Lucy let go of her brother's hand when they reached the well, keeping her distance from it, and gave Edmund a chance to inspect it more closely. The men had all gathered around and were peering into its depths. Not one for caution, the Just King hopped onto the wide barrier and kneeled. He tried to see through to the bottom.

"Be careful," Bastian warned.

"I don't see any water," Edmund mumbled and ignored the crown prince's warning.

"Nor I," Escar said, leaning over the barrier. He straightened with a sigh and looked at their surroundings.

Edmund reached down and touched the stone walls inside. They were as dry as sand. When he pulled his hand back it was covered with the same limestone dust. The same color as the buildings. Obviously the same kind of stone they were all built from. "I wonder if they got their stones from the mine we exited," He looked at Bastian, but the crown prince looked utterly confused.

"I think they might have," Escar agreed and moved away to inspect the houses, summoning a guard to him.

The well was in a little square and the bright sun was beaming down at an angle, just off center enough that it didn't illuminate the bottom of the well. Edmund wondered what lurked there in the depths and an idea came to him. "We should lower someone down to check the water table," He was still crouched on the wall, but looked up and met Baro's eyes. He could already tell the prince knew what he was thinking. That he did _not_ like it.

"We have no rope."

"So someone should _climb_ down," Edmund persisted. He knew he would soon hear a chirping voice of disagreement.

"None of us are skilled enough to climb those walls," Escar said as he and his man returned to the group. There were only the six of them.

"I do," Edmund said easily.

"Ed," Lucy said nervously. She was staying away from the well, but just within reach of their group. Out of reach of the vines that pulsated in the deeper shadows, distanced from the center of the brightly lit square.

Edmund straightened and hopped off the wall with ease. He walked over to her and took her hands. "We need water," he whispered. He didn't want her to worry, but he felt quite confident he could do it. The part of the wall he had felt seemed uneven enough for him to find footing. "I'll just climb down and see if there's any water. I have my sword and if anything happens the soldiers have their bows," He looked into her eyes and tried to see what she was worried about. "This place is deserted, Lucy."

She glanced at the well and back at her brother. "I don't like it."

Nor did he. The city was far too quiet. It should have been humming with life. He had assessed upon a second glance that it was deserted, but what alarmed him was that it didn't seem capable of supporting life of any kind. Even if those who'd built left for some reason, surely animals or plants would have moved in after them. But instead of voicing that concern, he smiled. "Do you trust me?" A smile like the ones that usually made her smile along.

"Promise you'll come back quickly," She squeezed his hands.

His smile grew and he nodded.

"King Edmund, you cannot be serious?" Bastian asked when Edmund turned.

Baro seemed to agree with his brother and stepped up so they were shoulder to shoulder. "There could be any number of things in that well, none of them water, King Edmund."

"He's right," Escar interrupted through gritted teeth. "But perhaps one of the grownups should go?" He glanced at Baro.

Edmund's heart pounded and he fought to remember everything his brother had taught him about keeping his patience. "You're too heavy and as you said none of you have the skill to climb it," He felt Lucy put her little hand on his lower back, gripping his belt. "I'm lighter than any of you and a skill climber. I'm the logical choice," He speared Escar with a glare. " _Grownup_ or not."

"And I suppose the King climbs often then?" the General-Prince asked brazenly as he advanced.

"My brother and I climb the rocks off the coast of Cair Paravel. I'm quite skilled," Peter would have disagreed, but luckily he wasn't there just then. Edmund stood calmly and refused disgrace himself by starting another argument with the prince. Either he was jealous or he was worried, neither of which bothered Edmund particularly. "I'll be careful. It will only be to see if there's water at the bottom. Might be the harsh sun has dried out everything on the surface, but surely there _must_ be some below ground," He gestured around them. "How else could a city have survived here?"

"Obviously it didn't," Escar bit out. He was getting frustrated Edmund noted smartly.

"Someone should run fetch Bilfred and tell him we found a well. See if they have some rope," Bastian interrupted, addressing a soldier.

The princes took a moment to stare between their brother and the young king before Baro deflated. "I'll go as well. Hadron, come with me," He waved the captain with him and left.

The silence then descended. The first to break it was the whimsical looking physician when he sighed and took a seat on a cracked rock. Edmund stared at the man first, but then decided to look around the little square. Dozens of rocks littered the ground. He looked up and found matching holes in the buildings. "What do you think happened here?" he asked with his brown eyes searching the houses.

Lucy took a seat on the ground next to the physician. He stood and was about to offer his own seat, but Lucy turned him down. "Maybe there was a war of some kind?" She had noticed the damage as well.

"What is this place?" Escar muttered and took a seat in the shadow of a house, keeping a wary eye on the vines. His brother followed him and sat down.

"Well at least we now know where the plants come from," the physician said to the surprise of everyone. Edmund turned to look at him fully, wordlessly asking for him to continue. The white-haired man cleared his throat. "Well… From _here_ ," He gestured to the space around them. The City of Nowhere.

Edmund shot a hateful look at the black plants and frowned at the thought of what infection would look like. "That doesn't help us if one of us gets eaten," he said, voicing his thoughts.

The physician agreed with a curious tilt of his head. "True. We only have things to repel them."

"Fire," Edmund remembered. He also remembered the smell when he had cut into them. Sulfur. They probably burned quite spectacularly which was why Bilfred hadn't just burned them away from the exit. There had been too many of them. The whole tunnel could have exploded. He raised his eyebrows. Well at least they now had fuel for fires.

"Yes, fire. But also this," The physician pulled out a little flask from his jacket and shook it. It was in a small vial. The liquid was clear and resembled water, but Edmund guessed it was rather nasty when applied.

"What is it?" Lucy asked.

"Poison, my Queen." He looked almost gleeful. "A toxin derived from the stingers of the silver jellyfish." He handed her the bottle. "I discovered it myself. A drop to a gallon of water kills the plants in the cave quite effectively."

"Silver jellyfish are only found in very deep waters." Lucy said and passed the tiny bottle to her brother.

Edmund took a closer look at the liquid. Rather intrigued in spite of himself. He turned the bottle upside down and noticed that the poison was quite thick. Not easily mistaken for water despite its transparency.

"Deep-sea fishermen." Escar muttered by way of explanation.

He gave it back to Lucy who took another chance to examine it. She was already very interested in pharmacology and botany, and showed an aptitude for it. Perhaps that was why Aslan gave _her_ the Cordial? His eyebrows shot up again as he had another idea. Brilliant if he was to say so himself. "Couldn't _this_ be used to cure men of infection from the vines?"

Many of those with wounds, who had so bravely or perhaps carelessly thrown themselves at the vines, had been left behind at the mouth of the mine. Given torches and told to stand guard.

The physician lost his smile and accepted the vial back from Lucy. "We tried, your Majesty. We administered the toxin to men in very small doses."

"What happened?" Lucy asked in concern.

"They died. The toxin kills by destroying the body's ability to function. It is as though it attacks itself. The ones we tried to cure died of suffocation and pure agony."

"But it killed the plants," Escar added with a calculating expression.

"What if I use my Cordial to heal them after you give them the poison?" Lucy asked the physician. Her hand came to rest on the bottle. A few of the gathered looked timidly hopeful at her words though no one spoke.

The older gentleman looked intrigued and darted his eyes from Edmund to Lucy. "I've heard of this… _Cordial_."

"That doesn't fix the problem," Escar called from his spot in the shade. He fired a rock at a wriggling vine several feet away. Bastian eyed it warily.

Edmund turned on Escar, having had quite enough of his attitude, but realized he seemed more despondent than frustrated. "How come?"

"The plants begin to grow inside people. Administering the poison and the Cordial might kill the vines and heal the bleedings, but it wouldn't remove the plant. They would still have to be cut out somehow."

"Perhaps after giving them the poison?" Lucy suggested. She cast a lightning glance at her brother to see if he had any cuts on his face. Her mind conjuring up horrible images of bloated corpses that became gestation receptacles for flesh-eating monsters.

Edmund realized then that his sister had been as worried for them as he had. Probably even more so.

"What if you were to administer the poison and cut the plants out before you gave them the Cordial?" she repeated.

Edmund wordlessly looked at Escar for confirmation, but the prince was already shaking his head. "It would have to be done quickly. Too quick," He seemed reluctant face them, but also seemed like he was entertaining the possibility despite his skepticism.

"Why don't we cross that bridge when we get to it, Lu?" Edmund asked. He felt sorry for the workers just then. He looked around and wondered as his sister, about what the bodies would become close to death. Would they bulge as the plant grew and grew inside them, or would their bodies cave in as the vines devoured more and more of their innards?

He looked around and noticed the conversation had dampened the mood considerably. He felt sorry for Bastian who hadn't looked anyone in the eye since they all sat down.

Lucy took in her brother's soft expression with an arched brow of chastisement. She quickly looked down too and unawares made her brother feel like the villain. He opened his mouth to reassure her that the idea wasn't a bad one at all when suddenly voices boomed through the vacant streets.

Baro, followed by the captain and Bilfred, came into view around the corner of a house. The outspoken miner was smiling when they arrived. "We have rope!" he announced and showed it. His miners, grouped around their prince and employer.

"Excellent," The physician clapped his hands and stood.

Edmund took it from Bilfred and moved to the well for a second look. He roped a noose and tied it around his waist. When Escar appeared at his side, they looked at each other a moment. "I'm still the lightest and the best climber if the rope fails."

But the prince had no intention of speaking against him and only nodded. Edmund handed him the end of the rope and hopped onto the well. He watched Escar and the captain take hold of the rope in preparation for lowering him down. Edmund swung over the edge, gripping the wall and trying to find footing.

"Call if you need us to pull you out," Baro said just as Edmund found his footing.

He nodded and accepted a hand from one of the soldiers. He hopped down onto a tiny outcropping. Sounds of little stones grinding loose made him pause a second before he continued. He kicked out dust and made little pockets for his feet.

Climbing down was hard, but he felt reluctant to dive headfirst into the unknown darkness. Going up was always easier. Despite what he had told them, this didn't compare to the cliffs around Cair Paravel. It was a manmade wall, made brittle after years of neglect.

But he was already submersed in the shadows, and felt quite childish at the thought of calling to be pulled up though he was barely three feet down.

He made his way further down. His feet slipped a few times, but the rope was held taut by Escar and his captain. His pommel clanked against the wall and reminded him that he wasn't defenseless. It seemed ridiculous, but went a long way to calm him. That and the fact that their group would need water if they were to survive. The pond in the caves had been cut off from them in the collapse. Regardless, he preferred to move forward.

After almost ten minutes of climbing, though he suspected it seemed longer to him than it really was, his feet hit bottom. There was no splash or soft sucking to suggest water so he called for them to loosen the slack. "You wouldn't happen to have a torch would you?" he called as well.

"Hang on."

There were a few muffled voices before a lit torch was thrown down the well. "Head's up, Sire," Edmund nimbly sidestepped and watched it hit the bottom. When he picked it up he took a closer look and realized that dry sand did indeed line the ground. He put a hand to the walls of the well, but felt nothing but dry lime. Not a drop of water in sight, but perhaps a bit deeper into the ground? He pulled his sword free and stuck it as far down as he could. He pulled it free and saw to his dismay that not a spec of soggy sand clung to its blade.

He sighed and swung the torch in front of him to loosen the sand when he turned and froze. Behind him the bottom of the well opened up, through a small gap, into a cave so wide that his torchlight barely lit the mouth. "I need more slack," he called. The rope lopped across the floor and he began to move into the darkness. There were no sounds as he walked. No drips of water. Only the sound of his own breathing and his scraping footsteps as the sand changed to packed dirt.

He began to feel disheartened. He called for more slack and received it though he couldn't hear their replies beyond mutters. His sword was still drawn, he realized, when it suddenly caught the light of the torch. He frowned and wondered how he had forgotten about it.

He hoped it was simply because it had now finally become an extension of his arm like Oreius told them it should be. He maneuvered it back and held the torch in front of him instead. When he looked back he saw the exit to the well lit by a white column of light. He breathed a sigh of relief, but froze.

He could have sworn that his sigh had echoed. Not in the way his footsteps bounced between the stone walls, or the way his inhales filled the empty air with a little noise. No, slightly delayed as though something had mimicked him. He stopped and frowned when the darkness suddenly became all the more unnerving. Was Lucy right? Was there something bad about this cave? Suddenly his idea to explore it seemed like idiocy and not valor.

His heart began to pound and he called out. "Hello?" No sound, but he could have sworn there was a whisper in the silence after his echo. "Is anyone there?"

No answer.

The ground beneath his feet was still dry and he decided he had done enough exploring for one day. He turned and jogged back to the bottom of the well where he spotted worried faces peering down from the top. Sunlight still shone on them and lit about a quarter of the way down the well. "I'm coming up!" he called, nerves making his heart pound harder.

His own words were whispered back to him by the darkness, even as his rope was being pulled taut. Real terror didn't strike him until his feet had been lifted a foot off the ground when suddenly something knocked over a rock somewhere in the cave. "Who's there!" he barked in his most kingly voice.

"King Edmund. Are you alright?" voices called from the surface, sounding concerned, but he ignored them.

He was now three feet above ground, being pulled ever higher, and could just barely look into the opening of the cave. There suddenly came a shuffle from right beyond the reach of his torch. He didn't think, he just threw it. The flame shot towards the source of the sound and just before he was raised too high to see he saw something flinch away from the light.

"Get me out of here," he shouted, trying not to sound like an infant, wailing for its mother. He was pulled higher and higher, but still had his sword out and his eyes fixed on the bottom. Nothing revealed itself to him and as the sun hit his face he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

The thing that had scared him most about the Fell creatures of Narnia were their nightmarish qualities. That they moved just beyond the range of sight. Once you got a good look at them they usually weren't scary, just ugly. He wished he had been brave enough to try and get a look at the things that had made those sounds, but also couldn't get out of the well fast enough.

Hands reached down and pulled him the last inches fully into light. He rolled over the edge and moved away from the well with his eyes sternly focused on it.

"What was it?"

"King Edmund, what did you see?"

Nervous voices breached the terror that had gripped him, but it wasn't until Lucy touched him he snapped out of his trance. "Edmund, your sword," He looked at it and back at her, then put it away.

"King Edmund, what did you see?" Baro asked again. He was worried. He looked around and realized they all were.

"I didn't see anything," he muttered in a near whisper. It was the truth. "Just scary noises," He smiled and tried to make light of the situation, knowing there was no need to worry them when he had no real witness.

"But there was definitely something there?" Escar asked. Edmund noticed he had drawn his sword as well and wondered if the prince would actually have jumped in after him.

"But no water either unfortunately," he answered, trying to draw attention back to their as-of-yet unsolved problem, not wishing to linger on the fact that they had just encountered another one. He turned and stalked away from the well, but felt loathed to step into the shadows from the buildings. Instead he chose to perch on a sunlit rock in the middle of the square. The sun slowly burning the back of his neck as his breaths went back to normal.

Lucy came over and kneeled next to him with a hand on his knee. "Edmund?"

He looked at her and removed the hand he had rested his chin on. The so-called grownups were talking among themselves.

"What did you see?" she whispered.

He looked past her and that saw most of the men arguing, while the princes and their captain kept glancing at him in concern. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. "I told them the truth. I didn't _see_ anything."

Her face paled as she understood his meaning. "What did you hear?"

"Whispers. Sounds of something moving about," He hated telling her this, but knew with a clutching fear that she had a right to know. He was too concerned to hide it from her and not knowing could put her in danger. When he looked closer at her face he reached out on an impulse and pulled her head in so he could kiss it. He pulled her in closer and wrapped his arms around her. "Don't worry, Lu. I'm sure it's nothing we haven't seen before."

She didn't reply but wrapped her arms tightly around him as well.

Suddenly the lack of water seemed trivial. They needed to find a way back _home_.

* * *

TBC :)


	7. The Rooftops

A/N: Tiny update made for this chapter.

*Lightningscar: Sort of, in the sense that elements from _this_ story will appear in the conclusion to Last Guardians and Four Corners.

* * *

Chapter 7: The Rooftops

"So that's the last of it then?" Escar asked the miners who had just accounted for the last of their provisions. A little water, crackers and dried figs. Basically whatever provisions the miners had on them before the collapse.

Some of the men looked sick. Pale and sweaty. Everyone seemed to be ignoring it, including those who suffered.

"We shouldn't be thinking about hunting, we should be clearing the entrance to the mine," Edmund muttered into his hand. He was tired, he was hungry and he was – for lack of a better word – cranky.

"We can't accomplish any of that without provisions or water, Your Majesty," Bilfred answered. He sounded tired.

Edmund hated Bilfred for his patient tone, if only because it reminded him how childish he was acting. Not wanting to be beastly, he tried to dial back his rampant annoyance to a slow simmer, but he couldn't stop worrying. He didn't _like_ it here. He wanted to go home. He didn't care if his companions had all forgotten his shock when he exited the well. He still clearly remembered what he'd heard. _Seen_ , although he'd told Lucy differently. "What if we make camp near the mines?"

"I don't like it. It's too exposed," Escar said and frowned into the ever-present sun. It had only moved a quarter across the sky in all the time they had been there. It felt like days, but was probably shorter. Had to be because the sun hadn't set once.

At present they were sitting on one of the many rooftops. The one they had chosen offered an almost unhindered view, horizon to horizon. There was nothing but city and cliffs in the far background, seemingly endless. "So perhaps _some_ of us should go hunting?" Edmund offered and stood up. He swayed and quickly sat back down with a hand on his head.

"Edmund, come here," Lucy walked over and pulled him into the shelter the miners had built for her so she could escape the harsh sun. Made from scraps of clothing and the capes worn by the royal guard. He allowed himself to be pulled under the patchwork tarp and thumped down next to her. She undid his leather vest and took his hand without a word. It frustrated him how weak he felt.

"I suggest we _all_ get some rest," Escar volunteered. He looked at the gathered. "Bilfred, could you and your men help us make more of those shelters?" He pointed to the one Lucy and Edmund were currently hiding under.

"I'll help-" Edmund made to stand, but was pulled roughly back down by Lucy. "Or not," he muttered and submitted to her will.

He caught the quick smile Baro sent their way before the Terebinthians went to work, contemplating what they could use to hide under. He pouted through Lucy's soothing touches and straight past her pushing him flat on his back. It was only once he was lying down he noticed _how_ exhausted he really was. He exhaled deeply when she lay down as well and curled up next to him. His arm snaked around her shoulders and his eyes slid closed.

Around them the men got to work on building shelters, but not even their light conversation could distract him from the weariness that suddenly seemed intent on claiming him. Baro and Escar were tying down the last pegs of an impromptu shelter, using jerkins bearing the Terebinthian, royal seal. They were running out of material to make more shelters. It seemed the three brothers would share this one.

Escar was securing a strap when Baro's eyes drifted and a smile crossed his face. "Father was right when he said they were special," he whispered to his brother about the young sovereigns. He had watched them ever since they had arrived and had only been pleasantly surprised so far. Unspoken went his longing for his own, newborn child. He wondered if his wife was worried. If their father had made it out before the Blue Mine collapsed. If Hilio was unscathed.

"He certainly was," Escar muttered through his work.

Then, as if sharing their thought, both brothers suddenly looked in the direction of their oldest brother. Bastian was slouching on the roof's edge, looking over the strange city in the blistering sun.

His back was turned to the group and he had yet to utter a single word since they made camp. Before that even, at the well or perhaps at the mine. "Do you think he'll be alright?" Baro asked, his concern evident.

Escar sighed and looked at his brother's back again. "He'll have to be, or he'll die here."

The second oldest brother looked at Escar in surprise. "How can you say that?"

"It's the truth," Escar offered before he rose and went to grab his and his brother's weapons where they left them. Bringing the blades out of the sun seemed prudent. He placed his and Baro's swords next to them, respectively.

The shelters were pitched to form a diagonal line on the roof, all facing away from the fixed sun, trying to maximize the shade. They had four in total, with enough shade to cover about four torsos in each except for the one shared by the Narnian king and queen. Theirs was the closest to the edge of the roof, closest to the puttering physician, and the smallest.

Time slowed as, one by one, the men finished and went to sleep under the flimsy shade. Without proper food and water for an unreadable amount of time – but what Edmund stubbornly estimated to be about two days – everyone fell fast asleep.

All save the one, lone physician, Kairon. He was perched in the low shadow of an adjoining roof. There he had found very small ash vines, creeping their way through cracks in the walls from the darkness inside. He cut one free and watched the plant curl in on itself as the remainder of it tried to retreat. He looked closely at the black juice that seeped from the plant's soft core and sniffed it.

It smelled like he knew it would, sulfuric, but despite that he brought the severed vine to his mouth and allowed some of its juice to drip into it. Only a few drops. They caught in his throat and he sputtered a cough to clear it. He brought the vine back to the fire that had been lit and threw it on as fuel. The vines didn't burn very long, but they burned very intensely.

It didn't matter, he realized as he looked at the sun. It would be in the sky for quite a while yet if he was any judge. Its warmth would keep them from freezing in their sleep.

He sighed and sat down in front of the fire while he waited for any ill effects of the ash vine's juice to appear. He hoped his stomach fluids would sterilize any harmful effects, that there were no scratches in his throat or on his tongue. That he wouldn't be eaten slowly from within.

If all went well, they had a source of water, or something very close to it.

His stomach rumbled. He placed a hand on it and waited.

* * *

A while later one of the young sovereigns mumbled something in their sleep. Kairon observed and thought about walking over to look. Everyone else slept on when the young king shuffled around before he rose and left the shelter. "King Edmund," the physician greeted.

"Hello," Edmund mumbled and came over in front of the puny, sputtering fire. The sun was relentless and a headache was sneaking up behind his eyes. He had removed his vest and jacket, sitting only in a shirt. He looked at the curious contraptions that filled the camp. "What's all this?" Tiny jars and skins in stone wells were liberally strewn about the place. Above one tiny vial he saw a length of vine suspended, dripping into it. Suspended over a concave rock he saw a skin with something akin to water dripping through at the bottom. He wondered about the supplies, but concluded most had probably been in Kairon's purse. "Did you find water?"

Suddenly his mouth became dry and the need to drink ravenous.

Kairon looked at him with a hesitant smile and stood up to collect a broken piece of pottery. A murky liquid was sloshing around the bottom and became clearer closer to the surface. "No," He held it out to Edmund regardless. "I tested it on myself a bit earlier," He nudged the little clay bottom for the king to seize. "It's quite safe to drink."

Edmund took it and tentatively brought it to his nose. He instantly gagged and pulled back. "What is this?" He hid his nose in his sleeve and looked at the physician as if he was insane.

"The juice of the ash vines."

Suddenly something very wrong turned in Edmund's stomach. "You've been drinking this?"

Kairon just chuckled and waved away the young king's concern. His balding, sunburnt forehead glinted in the sun. "Don't worry, Your Majesty. I've had quite a long time to examine this plant," He urged the king to try and drink again.

Edmund looked up at the sun and noticed it was lower. No one save for Kairon was awake. He was more than a little hesitant to follow the advice, but did so just to soothe the pain under his skull. The first sip was horrible. The second was even worse, but after the third his body seemed to realize how dehydrated it was and it was suddenly impossible to stop.

Despite the foul taste and the consistency.

He gagged, but removed it only when the blackish dregs were the only liquid left. It was thicker than water. Thicker at the bottom, where the liquid was almost black, than at the top, where it was murky grey.

He handed the oily piece of pottery back to Kairon who quickly returned it to its place under the suspended plant with a palm on his uneasy stomach. "How long?" He couldn't help his disgusted frown or the need to wipe his mouth. The instinctive swallow to keep the liquid down.

"Hm?"

"You said you've had quite a long time to examine it. How long?"

Kairon frowned as he tried to remember. "Well it was discovered about forty years ago. I came to Terebinthia as a student almost fifty years ago. I believe I began working with it shortly after the first victim was claimed."

Edmund paled. They had known about this plant for four decades. Almost half of Jadis' reign. They had known and yet King Baskar had been more than willing to bring two visiting royals into the mines where the plants made their home, thinking he had the problem under control.

 _Foolish boy!_ the voice in his mind hissed. The instinctual call of contempt that had sounded like the White Witch ever since his time spent with her.

Kairon looked up and noticed the king's expression. "Oh but we've learnt a great deal about it, Sire. We know much about them. They've quite a lot of interesting qualities."

Edmund's stomach dropped and he found it impossible to tear his gaze from the white-haired man. "And the juice won't kill me?" He still couldn't quite decide if he trusted this man, despite already having drunk the liquid. There was something about Kairon that unsettled him. "Ash vines won't start crawling out of my throat?"

Kairon chuckled and waved at him again. "No, no. The plants _are_ aggressive, but they seem to only spread into open wounds via their spores."

Edmund frowned and focused very hard on _open wounds_ as he asked his next question. "Their spores?"

"Ah," Kairon raised a finger before he dove into his pell-mell assortment of salvaged goods and flesh-eating plants. Edmund suddenly noticed a bundle of broken pots and twigs and realized where Kairon must've gotten them from. He'd been inside the abandoned homes.

He pulled out a bottle of what looked like greenish, gray dust. "These are spores from one of the vines. It collects on dark and cool surfaces," He handed it to Edmund. "We found vines that were over a mile long. Along the thickest we often find this substance on and around the plant. The spores are poisonous, but only in open wounds," His eyes skittered to the sleeping miners.

"So…" Edmund turned the little apothecary bottle this way and that. "I _won't_ die."

"No, your Majesty," Kairon smiled. "The liquid is safe, though it tastes rather foul," he consoled. "And from what I've learned the juice doesn't appear to have any side effects one might expect from something so vile so long as you ingest it orally."

Edmund nodded and looked at him an intense stare, but Kairon simply chuckled again. "Are you alright, Sir?" he asked at length.

"Oh quite, Your Majesty."

Edmund looked him over and realized his face wasn't the only part of him that looked burnt. The sunburn traveled down the back of his neck and was almost concealed by his shirt, as though it hadn't sheltered him from the sun any. "Perhaps you should get some sleep, Kairon? Get out from under the sun," Delirium from sunburn or heatstroke was a real concern in this place.

Kairon scoffed at the shelters. "Those things won't keep me from getting sunburn if that is what Aslan intends for and I should think it would be unsafe to sleep _inside_ the houses," He snorted with a little giggle.

Edmund nodded and suddenly wished the others were awake. "Right," It was why they had decided in the end to sleep on the roof and not inside the any of the empty buildings. Wherever there was shade there were too many vines.

He nodded and stood up. Kairon watched him head back to Lucy to check on her. She wasn't burned. A little tanned, but nothing too severe. When he looked back Kairon had resumed whatever he had been in the process of doing before Edmund woke, so instead the king went over to check on the others.

Unsure of why, he headed to rouse Escar. He shook him awake. With an intake of air he flinched up and looked curiously at Edmund. "What?" The soldier-prince glanced at his sleeping brothers and briefly over at Kairon.

"He seems strange to me," It wasn't much, but it was accurate. Wasn't what Edmund had been trained to observe, or how he'd been educated to communicate, but it felt like the only explanation with the sun and the heat pounding down on top of him. The rumbling in his stomach.

" _What_?" Escar sounded incredulous and annoyed at being brought out of his slumber. "He's always been strange, but he's quite intelligent," He sat up straighter and looked around Edmund's crouch. "What's he doing?"

"Making potions out of the plants. Claims we can drink it when we run out of water," Edmund glanced back as well. He had unconsciously put one hand on his sword.

"Don't worry so much, Your Majesty," Escar lay back down, dismissing his junior. "Go back to Queen Lucy."

Edmund very nearly snapped back at the insolent tone, but instead sneered and went back to sit with his sister. Something felt off. _Something_ had woken him.

Escar was sharing a shelter with his brothers and had already rolled over and gone back to sleep. All three of them looked like they needed it, but Edmund felt a pressing need for someone to talk to. Someone who didn't make him nervous. He carefully nudged Bastian with a glance back at Kairon. The man was still fiddling with his concoctions, paying no mind to any of them. "Bastian, wake up," he said softly.

Next to the crown prince Baro stirred in his sleep, Escar sighed, but none of them answered his call. He nudged the crown prince a bit harder when there was still no answer. Feeling something was amiss he turned Bastian over as a last attempt to wake him. When a pair of fixed, wide open eyes stared into nothing and a slack jaw gaped grotesquely at him he had a moment of complete confusion. The future king of Terebinthia was unseeing and utterly devoid of life, even as Edmund held his palm over the open mouth to check for breaths. His breath stalled a moment before he could move again. His fingers reached down to search for a pulse and found none.

 _Oh God_.

The thought blasted through his mind and brought shivers to his entire body. He rose and drew his sword, only to find Kairon staring at him with a whimsical smile. "What's wrong, Your Majesty?"

 _The crown prince is dead_.

"What did you do?" His voice quivered, but only widened Kairon's smile. Behind him Escar and several of the men snapped awake, the former in annoyance.

It was Baro who first called out. "King Edmund?"

Kairon looked on curiously. "Well he was dreaming so I gave him a bit of tonic. I gave it to all of them," He pulled out the vial from earlier. The one full of silver jellyfish poison.

"What've you-" Edmund's breath left him and he jumped towards his sleeping sister. "LUCY!"

She flinched awake before he could get to her. He slid to a stop next to her and frantically ran his hands over her face. He was shaking and scaring her.

She looked close to panic as she kept asking. "Edmund! What's wrong? What's wrong, Ed? Edmund, tell me. What is it? What's wrong?" She started shaking as well from being shocked out of sleep.

"Wh-what h-have you done, wh-what h-have you d-done…" he repeated over and over, running his hands over her face.

"Oh she slept quite fine. It was the others-" Kairon called.

Edmund turned on him and interrupted his examination. He rolled to his feet and advanced with his sword drawn. "What did you _do_ to them?"

Several voices began calling to him. Someone called for Bastian.

Kairon flinched back when he saw the sword. "I-I was tr. Trying to-"

" _What_?" Edmund cried.

"I w-wa. I-I wanted to _help_ them."

"King Edmund-" someone called.

"Edmund, _stop_!" Lucy cried behind him.

"He's killed them," Edmund shouted back. Tears burned his eyes and a few spilled over the edge as he advanced on the physician. "He tried to kill them," He lashed out with his sword, aiming for Kairon's neck, but the physician dodged at the last second. A small yelp of surprise forced from him and he clutched his hand.

"King Edmund!" Escar roared at him. An order to stop at once, but Edmund didn't listen.

* * *

Behind her brother Lucy sprang to her feet, eyes focused on the men. She jogged over to the princes' shelter whilst Escar advanced towards Edmund. She reached Bastian first and found him ice cold and un-breathing, just as Edmund had said, with Baro trying to wake him. Understanding boomed through her mind and she jumped from man to man in the shelters. All the miners who had looked progressively worse were now either dead or close to.

Including the future king of Terebinthia.

* * *

Edmund advanced on Kairon who was frantically backing away, holding the cut on his hand.

Escar screamed at him to stop, now closer than before, in tandem with Kairon stuttering to understand what he'd done wrong whilst skidding across the loose sand on the rooftop.

The physician stumbled through the fire and onto his backside, staring at the cut in fear, paying no mind to Edmund and his intent to kill him.

Just as he had cleared the fireplace someone grabbed Edmund from behind and tackled him to the ground, nearly dislodging his sword in the process. Jugs, pots and jars spilled their contents onto the sandy roof.

Shattering.

Splattering black liquid hither and thither in obsidian drops.

* * *

Lucy had out her cordial to give each of the dying men a drop. She didn't care if several were already dead. On one a small, black tendril was slithering out his nose, black foam puffing up at the corners of his mouth and his teeth had changed color. He looked like he had internal bleedings and had been dead for a few hours at least, but she still gave him a drop.

Baro was heartbrokenly crying for his dead brother to wake up while Escar tried to hold down _her_ brother.

Only one or two out of the inflicted were still breathing and just barely. She hurried and gave each of them a drop of cordial before she turned back to her brother.

Escar had forced him into a backwards hug, sword on the ground and covered in a light coat of dust. Edmund's chest was heaving, feet kicking and every inch of his body shaking. He was shouting at Kairon though the man seemed lost, as he stared at his own hand.

* * *

Escar somehow managed to flip the struggling boy over and immobilize him. His panicked eyes sought out the scientist and he felt his chest give way to air once again.

 _If he dies we're all doomed_.

"What is this?" Baro demanded in confusion, pointing vaguely back at Bastian. Tears ran down his face though he didn't fully understand why. He was coming to a stand after failing to wake up his older brother. The prince looked around at the mess and paled. "Queen Lucy?" He looked at the young queen who was sobbing at Escar and her brother, both of whom were struggling several feet away. He looked at Kairon who had gone quiet and was muttering into his hand on the ground. He looked at his frantic men as they tried to wake their dead or dying friends.

Escar was screaming questions at king Edmund an inch from his face, demanding to know what he was thinking; demanding answers, equally incomprehensive to his eldest brother's state or that of the young king.

"What happened!?" Escar yelled when he had Edmund sufficiently subdued. His hands were pressing the young king's arms into a lock. "Bastian, get _up_!" he screamed in the next breath at the stiff corpse of his brother.

Edmund was sobbing until Escar's questions finally wormed their way to his conscious. "He tried to _kill you_ ," he yowled, tears running from his eyes.

Escar was quickly realizing their changed circumstances, but the ramafications still too massive to fully comprehend. He kept shaking his head, dislodging tears in the process. " _Baro_!" His voice shrilled and he sounded utterly terrified. "He's dead! Give him the Cordial!" he screamed at Lucy, who was now openly sobbing as remaining soldiers and miners ran from corpse to corpse, or stared at the terrified nobles, feeling equally terrified themselves.

"Bas- Bastian!" Escar called brokenly, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was still tensed over Edmund's stomach when he suddenly pushed off and stumbled back towards Baro. His brother had dropped to his knees in the middle of the rooftop, a horrified expression on his face, staring askance at their vacant surroundings. There was no help. No one was coming.

* * *

"Sire?" the captain called his commander. "Prince Escar, what are your orders?" He was frozen between his panicked general and the petrified physician on the far side of the roof.

He ran through the murderous events that had occurred in their sleep. What _Kairon_ had done.

"He tried to _kill you_ ," Edmund cried again, louder this time, as he rolled to his knees. He swallowed a lump in his throat and ignored the tears in his eyes, ignored the cause of his panic behind him. "B- Bastian is _dead_ ," Tears were running unchecked down his cheeks. His breath hitched with sobs and his sword-hand hurt from where he'd landed on it wrong.

"Bring him _back_. Now!" Escar cried at a distraught Lucy. He ignored Baro as he made his way to their dead brother. He appeared in control, but the shiver in his hands and the menacing hold of his shoulders belied his attempts.

Lucy was torn between running to her brother and running to Baro who seemed completely lost in the middle of it all. Soldiers had gripped their weapons and what workers remained had taken up a loose circle around the royals. She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, intermittent sobs shaking her chest. "It doesn't work that way."

"Please, Queen Lucy-" Escar didn't seem to hear her so Edmund intervened.

"It can't _revive_ the dead," he shouted, crying unashamed, chest hitching. He caught Lucy's eyes and moved to grab her. He held his breath so he wouldn't sob and wiped his eyes. Shaefelm lay forgotten by the sputtering fire, opposite a traumatized Kairon.

Captain Hadron flinched out of Edmund's way when the king advanced, but said king didn't notice. He stopped in front Lucy and gripped her arm in one hand. Leaning a little closer until he felt something give, either in himself or in her. He wasn't sure which.

She began to cry in earnest, letting loose a long, keening sound. The sensation of her body against his ripped free the last of his lingering shock and left only hollowness behind.

Their commander was dead. The future king of Terebinthia was dead and every person there had been helpless to stop it. _What happens now?_

The thought coursed through his head and the answer was as instant as it was instinctive. _You will protect Lucy_. _First and always_. He took a breath as an attempt to expel the last of his tremors. "It's alright," he whispered, though it didn't work when a shiver in his chest nearly ripped his breath away. "It's alright now. Shh-shh. It's- it's safe."

But it _wasn't_ safe and it _wouldn't_ be. The king's son was dead. It would never be alright.

They needed to get home, but in order to do so they needed to clear a mine that couldn't be cleared and crawl through black caves, back to another cave-in where it was very unlikely they could ever get through. Safe seemed so very far away just then and to his sorrow it seemed as if Lucy found that very hard to understand. "I w-want Peter," she whimpered into his shoulder, averting her eyes when Escar came a little closer.

Edmund's pulse rose in honest fear and he wished – for one irrational moment – he hadn't been the one to find Bastian. Wished it _had_ been one of the grownups. Anything was better than feeling this, strange hollow dread. Even admitting that he would never be enough for her.

* * *

TBC


	8. The Elysian Fields

A/N 2.0: Thank you Lightningscar ;)

You'll notice some severe lack of punishment for a certain mad-ish scientist. The reason is quite simply exhaustion (on behalf of everyone else) and perhaps even a bit of fear over lowering their number even further. Were they _not_ trapped in Satan's sandbox I believe they would've most definitely executed Kairon. As it is presently they're suffering from constant exposiure, not enough food or rest, and our plucky heroes are just tired enough to be conflicted about the correct course of action. You _are_ of course right, Kairon _is_ scum. Now go imagine how you'd like him to bite it and then tell me how sick and twisted you are in a PM or review.

Thanks for the love :* I own naught. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 8: The Elysian Fields

Hours passed.

No one approached Bastian or the shelter he'd shared with his brothers even though the dead workers were placed in a line and _their_ shelters taken down.

One of the workers, who had been close to death before receiving the cordial, passed completely in spite of it. He died, wheezing in pain as battling forces thundered through his body. The poison fought the cordial, which fought the vines. Eventually the poison won and took hold over the man's bodily functions, as well as the invading parasite – shutting down his heart and lungs as inevitably as the giant sun was slowly running its course across the sky.

One of the corpses began to bloat though no external signs of the vines appeared. Lucy supposed it was because he was laid out under the sun and the plants preferred shade, but hadn't the energy to ponder it too deeply.

One soldier was dying as well. One of Hadron's. The soldier had been poisoned like the rest of the Terebinthians, with jellyfish toxin, and was dying from it just as the worker had. Even despite the cordial. Lucy had concerns that the vines were continuing to cause internal damage in spite of the poison, but was afraid to say it out loud.

They had tried asking Kairon for advice, but the scientist was still trapped in his own mind. Staring at his injured hand as though it was missing.

At some point during that never-ending afternoon Lucy took a seat with the dying soldier and held his hand as his veins slowly turned black and his lips blue. The toxin wasn't even working to slow the growth inside him, only grotesquely stalling death slightly by prolonging his suffering. His breaths developed a wheeze like a sound of water passing through a straw. It wasn't long after that he began coughing blood pitifully.

Lucy guessed quite easily what was happening in every inch of his body. The vines were invading his lungs and the poison was paralyzing everything else. She had seen men with broken ribs or a broken back draw breath in the same strained way and knew the cause lay in their diaphragm.

Edmund sat and watched his sister with a surprisingly vicious outlook. He wasn't quite sure where the anger came from, but was more than willing to stomp it back and allow a slow burn to overtake him inside whilst the sun roasted his outsides. Occasionally his eyes skittered to Kairon and it came flooding back as it once did so frequently.

No one had spoken to the scientist except his page apprentice who'd been with them during the cave-in. Prince Escar's captain brought the boy a half full skin with a softly spoken command to "drink" before departing, ensuring none of the water went to Kairon.

The sight of the dead was horrible. On some of them, black things slithered out of openings in their bodies and retreated back in the second they touched direct sunlight. On others, those who had died because of the toxin, their lips turned blue and rigor set as mirrors of their last painful moments. Candidly alerting all that they had died whilst awake and aware, but unable to even call out. As those very last passed all movements stopped and they stiffened. Fingers like claws, toes curled inwards and eyes wide open in horror.

The cuts on all their faces had gotten infected and the ash vines had had free reign in their bodies for Aslan only knew how long. Had grown while they slept, same as the silence that grew with every new life claimed. The oppressing fear of forever remaining stuck in a dead city and simultaneously being trapped.

Whimpers and moans had died down and it was hard not to feel the relief that surged through the remaining survivors.

And still the sun lingered halfway frozen in the sky. Edmund wondered fleetingly how long the coming night would last when days were this long.

This _had_ to be a different world.

For some reason the idea came rather naturally to him. Almost as though it had happened before for someone. As he sat in the baking sun his mind spun around it again and again, as he slowly began to realize it _had_. Him and his siblings all had the same, vague dreams of another home, generic figures distantly identified as "mother" and "father" though the symbols felt long since deprived of any human faces.

The soldier died last and Lucy crept back to sit with Edmund. She had stopped crying and now just looked as pale and hollow as he felt. She had left the corpse exposed and folded her knees next to him with a thousand yard stare, just like Edmund. They were all empty, it seemed, except for Baro whose eyes were locked on his dead, older brother and Escar who was watching Edmund and watching over Kairon. Glare changing intermittently between heartbreak and fury.

Edmund knew he had scared all of them. He had _felt_ scared as well, but it was no excuse to frighten his sister, he thought in a moment of clarity. As long as it was just the two of them he would have to be the adult even if he wasn't enough. There would come times, no matter where they were, where he _would_ fail and mere thought of it scared him.

There would come a moment when Lucy would need her own strength more than his and the thought made his heart gallop.

But as his thoughts slowed down so did his emotions, wilting under the constant onslaught of heat and exhaustion and a numbness settled over him. With slow, detached movements he wrapped an arm around his sister and let her head rest on his shoulder.

He would have to _make_ her stronger and the thought terrified him. Force her to give up that innocence he loved much. Would Peter forgive him when they eventually came home? Would he have to suffer the unimaginable consequences of his actions once they returned and looked everyone in the eye? Would they ever see home again?

He twitched when Baro suddenly moved. It seemed they all did. The shock of what had happened had waned, but he still looked horrified. Edmund couldn't blame him. The princes had just lost a brother. A leader. He knew firsthand how awful the fear of losing your hero was.

Edmund had once thought he lost all of them. Could lose the rest of their pitiful group. That thought scared him even now. To be completely alone, only Lucy and he in this vast, bright void. Completely alone.

Baro went over to the soldier and pulled out a scarlet scarf to cover his face. The man looked like a wax doll. A carcass, soon to be a smelly corpse along with the rest of them. He deserved better than to rot with only their apathetic selves for company, under a foreign sun. They all did.

Old notions of Hell flashed before his mind's eye and the subject of hot suns and devils mocked him every second. Both were doing a splendid job of speeding up decomposition. Which added a horrific scent in the air. The mild breezes that blew sporadically did nothing to remove the underlying scent of putrefaction or wash away the memories of why it was there.

Baro stood again and moved across the roof, to Kairon. The scientist sat with crossed legs, and held his wounded hand. It had crusted over in a pale, yellow scab, intermixed with dark red around the edges. The wound was infected, Edmund thought with the faintest of sneers.

The prince- _crown_ prince, stopped two meters in front of Kairon and stared. For an instant Edmund's heart rate spiked and he wondered if Baro might kill the physician outright. But instead the new heir to the Terebinthian throne walked over and crouched in front of him without a word or a glance, and pulled aside the man's jacket. He reached in and pulled out the now only half full bottle of toxin along with another; filled to the brim. A drop for each man had been enough to kill them. Edmund shivered at the thought and spared the Lion the quickest of prayers that they hadn't been left all alone in this place.

"We should move," Escar announced suddenly, in a monotonous tone, when his brother retreated. Baro's gaze was fixed on the two bottles in his hands. Escar shattered the silence they had all somehow forgotten and no one dared answer. He perched by the very edge of the roof, arms on his knees. "The corpses might attract scavengers."

Everyone looked to the sky though none of them had spotted a single bird since arriving. They all thought it was moot. They had no idea how wrong they were.

* * *

"We should set up wards," Captain Hadron muttered into the bright sun, closing his eyes with a sigh when a breeze blew by his face. "To scare off predators."

 _Of which there are none_ , Edmund's mind supplied smartly, having all but disregarded the strange noises from the well. He looked out over the vista devoid of life. Vapors flickered on air. He hadn't noticed before. He looked up and saw the sun had moved slightly lower in the sky. Lucy didn't seem to be paying attention to anything at that moment.

"What predators?" Baro muttered back, still fingering the bottles and dismissing a searching stare from his younger brother. "There's nothing in this god-forsaken place…except us and that blasted _sun_ ," he growled and gestured harshly to the lingering orb that just _would not set_.

"He's right, Brother," Escar reminded the new crown prince. It seemed the only man Escar didn't dismiss on pure impulse was his captain.

"What did King Edmund see in the well then?" Hadron pointedly, but politely asked.

Edmund's mind supplied a rather frightening recall of his fear as his lethargy was momentarily overruled. Baro faltered a moment as well and answered in a resigned voice: "He didn't _see_ , he _heard_ ," Some of the men tuned into the conversation.

"Regardless, Your Majesty," another spoke. "It would be prudent to take precautions."

Most of the others stayed lost in whichever thoughts plagued them, still in shock or suffering heatstroke. It would wear off when the temperature dropped Edmund knew, if not sooner. But the dehydration would linger. The hopelessness might too.

He looked at the two royalborns, squinting through the bright glare. Waiting for them to actually include him. Until they did he had stubbornly decided to stay out of the argument.

"So tell us, Maj'sty. What _did_ you hear?" Bilfred asked softly, speaking for the first time in a while. The Terebinthian Master Builder was crouched over his own legs as well, sitting not so far from Edmund and Lucy.

Ed looked at him and glanced at his sister. She hadn't spoken since before she went to sit with the soldier. "I heard whispers," he said. His voice rasped and he cleared his throat to continue. "Something disturbed the stones while I was in the well."

"Something?"

"What whispers?" Baro demanded. "You said nothing of this," He managed to dredge up anger amidst the hollowness.

Edmund sighed deeply. "I didn't want to alarm you," Listening to the words spoken aloud he knew they were a pitiful excuse and cringed his nose in distain. He _should've_ told them. How could they treat him as an adult when he refused time and time again to trust them? "They shied away from the torch," he added, a muttered afterthought, but a shapeless idea sparked to life in his half-delirious mind. "Either the heat or the light had scared it," _Perhaps both, Eddykins?_ Her sugar-sweet voice asked and the ghostly touch of an ice cold finger down his chin made him quiver. Made Lucy watch him a little more closely, though she remained silent.

"It seems the sun _is_ mightily unkind in this world," Bilfred muttered in a surprisingly wry tone. "Perhaps whatever it was has reason to fear light and heat of day?"

"Perhaps it's _just_ the light?" Lucy suggested suddenly in a small voice, drawing the watchful gazes of those closest. Edmund watched the far-away look in her eyes and recognized the calculations of a sharp mind.

"Queen Lucy?" Bilfred asked.

In that moment Edmund felt an overwhelming love for the miner as he recognized some form of loyalty towards his sister in the older man. He would ensure it turned to favor Lucy and he. He'd make sure that the Terebinthians' loyalty came to them first in _all_ of them. Including the princes.

"The plants behave like some of the corals from home," Lucy explained as she watched the shadows on her hand play in the light. "They withdraw from light, not heat."

Bilfred looked down and nodded, but Baro interrupted. "Brilliant. So what then when the sun sets…" The mild-mannered prince was on edge. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks between long intervals though he hardly noticed.

Edmund suspected he and Baro both wanted Kairon dead and that the death of Bastian was overruling any logical thought.

Escar had stopped crying all together after his initial breakdown, but had hardened into a shell. "It won't for a long while yet," They all looked at him. "If its journey across the sky so far is anything to go by," he finished. Vigilant eyes on his much too unpredictable brother.

Edmund's eyes on both of them. Though he agreed with both in theory, he knew that the nights were probably just as long as the days and that most _Narnian_ monsters preferred the night. If the creatures he had encountered were afraid of the sun, then what would happen once it set?

* * *

The silence fell again like a living thing and Escar tore his gaze from Baro, to their remaining men. Seven had died. Five miners, one soldier and Bastian. That left just sixteen of them to fend off whatever followed the darkness. Sixteen men to find a way back home.

Escar looked back at his brother and felt a new sense of urgency roll over him. He needed to get the future king home and quickly. Baro might very well be last hope for Terebinthia and their fear would be what undid them all, he was certain of it.

But as a new sense of purpose arose in him he gazed at the new crown prince and transformed it to anger. He stood with a deep breath and drew the gaze of a few of the others. "We need to get home."

It drew their attention rapidly and knew he needed to make his point fast and gain his brother's support or they would all just sit until night came and finished them. "We need to clear the mine," He looked at Bilfred as he said it, but focused quickly back on Baro.

The crown prince looked pale. " _How_?" He scoffed humorlessly. "We are even less now than bef-" He stopped, swallowed convulsively and angered slightly. "We're not enough."

Escar held his gaze and stood his ground. "We'll have to be."

"Your Majesties," Bilfred asked as he came to a stand. "It will be most difficult, but there must be a way. There always is."

Baro stared at their subject, cupping one vial of poison. "How?" he demanded again.

No one noticed the sudden awareness in Kairon's eyes.

* * *

Edmund watched the men rouse from their stupor, one by one. Escar seemed to be the one most in control of his faculties which was predictable, he allowed. The prince was a soldier before anything and – he admitted reluctantly – was probably more like he or Lucy than any of the others. _Arrogance and all_ , Susan's voice minded him. "I agree," he called and drew the eyes of those now rising. He rolled to his feet, shuffling to force sensation back into his numb feet and legs. He reached down a hand for Lucy to take and she came to stand next to him much more gracefully.

"As do I," she seconded.

He felt it happening, felt it at that _very_ moment, as she shaped herself to him as he had to her. Supporting her in whatever she might choose, he _knew_ , and felt instinctively that she would support him unconditionally as well. He had learned much in his time as king. Most taught to him by wise Narnian tutors and most important of all was the knowledge that no matter how well he trained, no matter how long he lived, his mind would never surpass what two minds could accomplish, what five or _ten_ minds and wills could accomplish.

As one the gathered all looked in the direction of the collapsed mine just on the edge of the city. They weren't far, but they would have to leave the roof to get back.

"Whatever you so choose, we should move before long, Your Majesties," Hadron said. He was falling in line with _his_ commander, obviously still waiting to see exactly who that would be. The new crown prince, his general, or – Edmund hoped – the child sovereigns.

Escar seemed to make a choice when he suddenly took a searching step towards Baro, the two staring intently at each other. "What say you, Brother?"

* * *

Their group tore down all shelters except for Bastian's and left the bodies beside it. They had no other recourse, with the unyielding soil and the implicit urgency of approaching darkness though it felt very slow in coming. Edmund had a feeling the princes would insist to return and bring their dead brother back with them once the mine was re-opened, but knew what his answer would be. Why the loyalty of their men was imperative.

His thoughts mostly swirled around the possibility of finding a different entrance, back to their home (going in to get out), but also to the threat of whatever dwelled in the caverns below the city.

He looked up at the sun. The big, golden orb that had now again inched a _little_ lower in the sky. Though it had not moved much, but enough to worry.

It loomed like an eye, he thought, as it inched ever closer to the horizon. It watched their small group of marooned trek across the barren city. They stayed on high ground, Edmund realized, without verbal agreement. Although the rooftops were difficult to traverse, they all felt a looming unease whenever they looked into the shadowy streets below. They felt the threat of this city more and more keenly as the shadows reached farther out of empty doorways and deepened to pitch-black inside the homes.

They had regained hope, but it would be far too easy to lose it again. For all of them, he realized, with unknown threats moaning against the soft skin on the backs of their necks.

They made crawling progress back to the collapsed mine. It was a difficult path and it would be almost impossible to clear an opening. The slender hope that a doorway back to Narnia even _existed_ seemed to flicker in and out of their hearts and had to be rekindled, more tenuously each time, with shared glances between two or more. It was their only recourse and they had no supplies or shelter. They had no more weapons than those on their persons and no other avenues of action.

Edmund felt it like a nervous fever, knowing he would _have_ to find a way back. He knew because of the tiny hand that gripped his own. The way her skirts sometimes brushed against his leg or the way she breathed next to him, so very much alive. He intended for her to remain alive. He intended to put her back in Susan's arms and Peter's embrace if it was the bloody last thing he ever did.

"Up ahead," someone called and ran to check on the two workers who had been left to guard it. One was dead and the other stared deadened into empty space until Bilfred kneeled in front of him and spoke softly.

But there it was, Edmund thought. The petrified wave of stone that had collapsed so ruthlessly against their backs upon arrival. An anger rekindled again and bore with it a resolve and an unshakable, desperate urge. He _would_ get them home. He _would_ see Narnia again.

If it was the last thing he did he would get them both home.

* * *

TBC

A/N: This one was short, but the next one is quite a bit longer.

Also, Edmund is going to start making some pretty TOUGH (not touch ;) ) decisions really soon. I've tried to the best of my ability to put myself in his shoes, including that really unfathomable (and unCOMFORTABLE) fear of _making_ those hard choices. Let me know what pops into _your_ mind? About any of his character. I'm dying to geek out with someone about this!


	9. The Black Garden

A/N: _So sorry about the delay... Life, ya' know? This one is quite long. Also – Mind the genre_.

* * *

Chapter 9: The Black Garden

The light changed as they worked, but eventually, almost so slowly that none of them noticed, eventually the long evening crept over the city. Bringing with it a strange, new dusk.

They had toiled and dragged stones out of the way, trying to clear a hole without collapsing the cave, and had so far made a very slight indent in the wall that barred them from their home. Two groups had formed, one always working whilst the other rested. A sense of urgency followed the softening of the light and through unspoken agreement all of them began preparing themselves to work through the night.

Conversation had dwindled as work and no real nourishment wore each and every member down. Edmund began to feel the effects more and more keenly, wanting to break into tears with each new stone lifted, certain that he would die in this new Hell. But by some stroke of luck, each time he felt close to breaking, a kindly hand would touch his shoulder. Either to relieve him or to spur him on.

Shamefully, he admitted that the one thing that kept him from sitting down and weeping was the certainty that his fellows would never do so either.

And so he worked. So Lucy worked, dragging loose rubble away on one of the royal, maroon capes to help clear the dig. It became mindless in its monotony until Hadron called for relief and was given it by the second team. As they shook themselves awake, the Edmund, Lucy, Hadron and the others began to crawl down the slope. Limbs stiff from working in a crouch for hours.

When his feet his flat ground, a deep relief echoed through Edmund's entire body. So fierce that the world fell away around him and pleasure radiated up through his feet. He turned around and looked up at the wall. It had not moved an inch. It had not changed one stone. Or so it appeared.

His hopelessness would have felled him if not for the pure relief. "Come, King Edmund," Kairon's mild-mannered page beckoned. Phi was his name, as Edmund had learned. "Rest for a bit. Things always look better then."

He guided him towards Lucy who had stopped to stare at Edmund. She held out her hand and he took his readily, wary of the burning there that indicated forming blisters. "You feel it too?" she asked. Her voice had hardened since the first many hours of compounded trauma. Her eyes as well, had hardened and darkened into something Edmund never thought he would see. "Sit," she bade quietly. He collapsed against a boulder next to Phi and sighed. His back cracked and he was helpless against the groan that escaped him.

"I have something," Phi said even as Lucy unfolded her brother's hands and began blowing on them. The page pulled out a bell of fat and offered it to Lucy.

Her surprised smile caused an upsurge in the temperaments of the three, instantly easing away fears that had snuck up on them as hands first began to thump in beat with a pulse, threatening open sores. Lucy smeared a layer over her own palms and took Edmund's to do the same. "It won't cool you down, but it'll prevent blistering," Phi explained quietly.

"Do you think it would work if you could cut the plant out?" Edmund asked on a whim with his eyes fixed on his now glistening hands.

Lucy glanced up as she repeated her treatment on Phi. "It might," she whispered with a wary look at Hadron, Escar, and Baro. "But it would mean letting it grow," She glanced at Kairon as well, noting that he had worked with the rest of them to clear the mine, though he had begun to chuckle to himself half way through the shift. Presently he sat cross-legged, trapped in his own mind with an armed man watching him.

"For how long?" Edmund asked, now also staring at the royals who had been on their shift.

Lucy watched him and Phi both before she shrugged a little. "I don't know," But her eyes drifted down in thought. "I think it took almost half a day for the others to start showing signs," She looked up at her brother. "That's a long time to leave a wound untreated without knowing for certain."

The two siblings caught each other's eyes. Edmund had the sense that his little sister was assessing him. Wondering and evaluating and Edmund did his best to stare back with as much certainty as he could muster. "If I get cut-"

She inhaled. "Ed-"

" _If I get cut_ ," he persisted. "Let it be for a while. Until I start showing signs."

"Or until you die from the trauma."

He stared at her, now unwilling to look away in surrender. "Lucy, someone has to know how."

"Kairon might-"

"No," he interrupted. He straightened and leaned closer to her. "If we're going to survive _someone_ has to know how to cure us."

Next to them Phi held his breath. Lucy seemed on the verge of either crying or yelling. Edmund now knew with utmost certainty which he preferred. "I will help you, Queen Lucy," Phi suddenly whispered. The young man's eyes burned in the waning light of day. "No matter what. I will help you," He looked to include Edmund as well and nodded when he did.

"Thank you," Edmund whispered.

Lucy chuffed in a most sarcastic manner and rolled to her feet with the bell in hand. She strode over to where the relieved team was sitting and kneeled in their midst without invitation. Edmund heard their low voices as she conveyed her intentions. They each looked at her with wide eyes as she smeared the fat on their hands.

"Thank you, Phi," Edmund then said again. The young man nodded once more before he turned to watch an ailing Kairon sink further into his own mind.

* * *

Though the intent had been to work ceaselessly the darkness brought with it a natural and almost unnoticed urge to sleep. The relief team stopped working and joined those already resting as the light began to wane more and more. The temprature dropped and stars appeared on the eastern horizon. The sun transformed from its pale yellow to stunning pink and vapors danced high above the ground. Edmund sighed as the light refracted off them, softening even more.

It was the most marvelous sunset he could ever remember seeing.

Lucy made rounds for those who had stopped working, to apply salve, and reapply it to those who needed. When she re-joined Edmund she felt noticeably colder and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders on instinct. "Cm'ere old girl," he growled out and tricked a giggle from her.

"Levi gave me these," she said and held out three dried figs and one and a half crackers.

"Who's Levi," he mumbled as he bit greedily into the fruit. He worried about eating the biscuit, knowing it would most likely only make him more thirsty.

Lucy drew back and pointed at one of the soldiers. "That one. He's Hadron's Second."

Edmund watched him. He had noticed the man before. One of those loyal to Hadron, more so than to his princes. "Did they give you any water?"

She nodded and pulled out a pitifully limp skin. "Bilfred has the only other one. All the others are empty," she said even as Edmund began urging her to drink. He received it and took a quick swallow as well, passing it to Phi.

"Kairon knows how to make more," the page said.

Their lips had begun to dry, Edmund noticed. They had all stopped licking them when the dry air sucked the water from their open mouths. Edmund rubbed his still, glistening fingers against the chapped skin. Lucy and Phi copied him. "Yes, if he still has the presence of mind to teach us," Edmund grumbled. Lucy curled up tighter next to him, face turned towards the sunset.

"He _does_ ," Phi said with an unnerving certainty.

Edmund looked at him before he looked back at Kairon. "He killed the future King. Even if he survives there's no mercy for him in Eion," He felt a stab of pity when next he looked at Phi. "I'm sorry."

The young man huffed through a sad smile. "Don't be. I've been with him for a while. I've known something was wrong even before all this, but…" Something calculating made Edmund hold his breath for the conclusion. "He _knows_."

"Hm," Edmund allowed, dark eyes fixed on Phi. "He's sleeping," he observed.

"As we _should_ be," Lucy muttered. When Edmund peered down over his chin he saw her eyes were closed as she curled up against him.

He snorted and settled a bit more firmly against her. "Alright then, good my Queen. So we shall," he whispered the last into her hair before he placed a quick kiss on her crown. He didn't need to _see_ her to know she smiled.

* * *

Sleep stole over each and every human without reprieve. It caressed their sun kissed skin with cooler breezes and a quietness unto the air made it silky smooth. A silence that, for a while, seemed more soothing than threatening.

Edmund realized in his last conscious moments before sleep, that it was because of some cricket-like insect, chirping softly into the night.

* * *

He woke with a gasp of air and wild disorientation.

"Everyone up!" someone yelled. Darkness had fallen, but now bathed the city only so far as the moon and the white, reflective stones allowed. Sounds of men rolling to their feet snapped him fully awake, with Lucy quick to follow. He noted that Phi was no longer beside them, but spared it no further thought as he looked around. "Everyone, stand," Hadron yelled. "Where are the bloody torches!"

Edmund gripped his sword, but waited to draw. Oily splotches danced in front of his eyes as they adjusted to the dark and he tensed. "What is it?" he shouted amidst the sounds of disoriented men calling out for one another. Doing a head count.

"There was no one on guard. We all fell asleep!" Hadron yelled, sounding furious for the first time since Edmund had met him.

"Captain," Escar barked nervously.

"Does _anyone_ see Kairon!" the royal captain demanded and a different kind of panic spread.

"The skin," Lucy shrieked. "My water skin is gone."

"Mine as well," a man yelled. Bilfred, Edmund identified.

"That rat _bastard_!" someone else hissed.

"I need light. _Now!_ " Hadron ordered, something besides rage creeping into his voice. Panic beginning to blossom.

"How-"

Someone screamed suddenly in fear.

"Use the bloody vines and wrap them around a boulder if you have to!" Hadron roared.

"Sir-"

"Your swords," someone else yelled in panic. A worker most likely. "Fasten them to your swords. _Please!_ "

Edmund's lungs froze when he looked around him in the dark and suddenly heard the sounds of something slithering across gravel. He saw the moving shadows, writhing and coiling around their feet like living _things_ , the next second and _knew_. Lucy screamed and he jerked her up on a raised boulder. "Get on the stones!" he bellowed as even more men began screaming in earnest.

"Gods- Everyone on the bloody rocks, _now_!" Hadron ordered. "Levi!"

"Sir!"

Edmund saw the Second push Baro ahead of him up a pile of stones rolled away from the mine, next to Escar, Hadron and the rest. He saw one soldier stumble and fall to the twisting shadows, jerking and yelping in the seconds until he began screaming.

" _Allon!_ " Hadron cried in chorus with more of the others, but was unable to get down to help him.

Someone lit a spark and the vines around a sword shrieked and writhed in the flames as they clung to the steel. Hadron carried the makeshift torch and all saw suddenly what they had allowed to happen. The little hollow wherein they had so obliviously fallen asleep was black with moving masses. Vines wrapping themselves up rocks to reach their human prey. Twisting and crawling from tiny crevasses along the ground and slithering into cool night air whilst their prey slept. A quiver raced through Lucy and she began brushing herself off with panicked shrieks. Dragged her fingers through her loose hair as they watched vines begin to paw at the rocks they had all escaped onto. They had all seen the vines climb and knew it was only a matter of time.

"King Edmund!" Baro called in panic as the torch was angled towards them. They were trapped on one of the lone boulders that had fallen in the collapse. High enough off the ground that Edmund doubted the vines would fully reach them for hours, but irrevocably cut off from the others.

 _And the nights are so very long, Eddykins_ , Jadis giggled like a coy girl.

He looked over with open despair and darted his eyes down to try and figure a way out. Lucy kept brushing in panic at imaginary vines and shifted enough that she titled off kilter for a moment. Edmund reacted instinctively, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her from behind. Drawing her close and steadying them both. His breath bellowed in and out of his chest and his heart pounded. "There's no way down!" he shrieked and took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. "Hadron!" he yelled. "There's no way down."

He shot his eyes around in the darkness, but all he saw was black, creeping death.

"King Edmund, hold still."

"We need a path," he yelled, panic welling up inside him when he thought they didn't understand.

"Edmund!" Lucy shrieked.

"I don't-"

"Edmund!" she yelled in a suddenly different voice. Her hands were gripping him back, no longer just clinging to him. "Edmund, listen," She twisted in his grip and wrapped both hands around his face, fording his eyes to hers. " _Listen_!" she screamed.

"To what?!" he screamed right back, letting some of his anger replace the fear.

"Breathe deeper," she instructed, her voice dipping to a calmer registry as her wide eyes fixed onto his. "Breathe deeply and look at me. Follow me, do you remember?" she encouraged.

He did. He _did_ remember. Old nightmares and new ones. Horrors faced over the span of just a few years. Lessons in breathing by dance instructors and swordsmen alike. A kind general watching from the sidelines as the angry, little king learned to control his temper and his fear.

"Breathe deeply and _think_."

 _Think_. He was trembling and grasping hard at every word she said as though they were in a foreign language.

"We need a way down," she continued in her calm voice. Forcibly holding him still even as the slithering of the vines appeared back into his consciousness. Tiny pin-pricks traveling up and down his legs, and every brush of his clothing mocking their spindly vines. "We need to get _there_ ," she said and gestured to the men behind her. She darted her eyes down to the ground and swallowed audibly.

"You need light, Your Majesties," Hadron called in something very close to panic.

Edmund's head buzzed as he drew in deep breaths, gulping air he had deprived himself of in his hysterics. "Lucy."

"Yes," she joined, not asking just as Edmund wasn't. Simply reaffirming presence. "Set them on fire," she called, steely voice suddenly devoid of fear. Roaring with the kind of anger she _never_ displayed. The kind Peter had showed only very rarely.

"Majesty, you'll burn-" Baro called.

"Captain!" Lucy barked. "We are on a taller rock than you and we're surrounded. Light them on fire."

Edmund swallowed down a flutter and grasped reflexively at her jacket. His arms were vibrating with low level shivers, but he saw quite clearly when the captain, against competing orders from his masters, made a decision. Through the din of princes Baro and Escar yelling, miners yelling, Edmund caught the captain's eye and nodded once.

A heartbeat passed before the captain toed the vines off a rocky edge. With a deep inhale Edmund reached both hands around Lucy's head and twisted away from the sudden boom. A blast of hot air shot up around them and the vines screamed in agony. He had tucked Lucy's head snug against his shoulder, but opened one eye warily and saw only one thing before the stinging smoke blinded him. He saw, through pale orange fire, smoldering veins draped across the ground as they burned from the inside out and released flaming gasses into the air.

"Lucy," he cried when the air became impossibly hotter and an even more violent wave of panic surged through him. Her only response was to reach up and blindly push his face against her shoulder even as the fire blew itself out with an anticlimactic burp.

Crackling and hissing joined Edmund's gulping sobs as he tried to breathe deep enough through a feeling of suffocation. Lucy was heaving breaths as well, even retching as she trembled against him.

Strong hands appeared out of the ether and yanked them off balance. Edmund's instinct was to push them off, but familiar voices followed in the wake of the unwanted touches. "Sire, come down!"

"Hurry," He was dragged off the rock, into someone's arms like a feeble babe and unceremoniously hauled away.

"Lucy!" he yelled through a useless inhale for more air. His voice sounding pitiful even to his own ears.

"Please, King Edmund- look at me!"

"Lucy!" he mewled again.

"She's _here_ , Sire."

"Aslan… Hadron, look,"

"Please," Edmund begged through a throat he could hardly draw air through. His eyes burned and all he saw were dancing shadows amidst white flashes.

"Get them, let's go!" Hadron yelled.

He was moving, being carried in someone's arms. He was aware of wheezing for breath, but could do nothing to stop it. His arms shook and felt as though they were on fire. At the same time his body felt like a block of ice and nothing alleviated the pain that bored its way from his eyes, to the back of his skull and from his lungs, into his skin.

A final jolt of agony was what undid him. His back arched as he gave a whimpering plea for escape. The answer was the sweet kiss of oblivion.

* * *

"Set him down here," Hadron ordered, carrying his own precious cargo. So much lighter than she looked, the queen was, that it nearly broke his heart. "Here, here," He called for the king to be set down next to his sister. Out of the two it was undoubtedly the Just King who had fared worse. His sister, though she breathed oddly and was completely still, looked almost unharmed.

Her brother had been burned, Hadron saw when they placed the boy next to his sister. Most visibly in his face, where the skin had swelled grotesquely and blushed in painful red. "Get fires burning at each corner," he ordered, glancing at the edges of the roof they had so frantically scaled. One of the houses near the mine.

Fires roared to life almost instantly, vines puffing out more noxious smoke. Below them, around the entrance to the mine a sea of embers still hissed and whistled as fire coursed through the plants. "Here, here," Baro said in a quivering voice as he wiped bloody tears and dirt from the king's face.

They were so young, still.

"Careful," Hadron grumbled as he pulled out the queen's cordial. He held it up to the crown prince, kneeled at Edmund's head, with a wordless question.

"Do it," he ordered without hesitation.

He uncapped the diamond flask and tipped a few errant drops into the king's and queen's mouths. As he leaned back, heart pounding furiously, several wide eyes fixed on the two children. "C'mon, c'mon," someone muttered. Hadron ran a hand through his now sooty hair.

Baro darted wild eyes from the children to his captain until suddenly the girl arched up with a deep inhale in sudden, violent awakening. She jackknifed to sitting up and flinched as though on fire.

"Your Grace, Your Grace- Lucy, Lucy, Lucy," Baro muttered in a slight panic.

"Baro," she exhaled as two tears rolled down her cheeks. With a flinch she turned to her brother at her immediate right and touched a delicate finger to his temple. "Oh," she moaned softly at the sight of red, irritated skin. "His eyes," She looked up through more tears welling in her own to stare at Hadron.

"We gave him the Cordial as well-"

Just as Edmund rose with a deep inhale through a perfectly round mouth. "Edmund!" Lucy shrieked and lunged into his arms, sobbing and heaving with each cry. Tiny body shaking as though she had been dunked in ice water and not fire.

"Lu," Edmund forced out between deep breaths, one arm coming to wrap around her automatically. "Lu, I'm alright. I'm alright."

Her only response was to cry harder and she began pawing at his clothes, trying to grab and pull him impossibly closer. "Sire," Baro asked in a shell-shocked voice. Wet, wide eyes trying to catch those of the boy.

"King Edmund, look at me. Look at me," Hadron ordered in a calm rumble, repeating it when the Narnian king didn't respond and gently taking his shoulder to turn him around. The swelling on his face had gone down with the cordial, the diluted red that had run from his eyes had dried and the horrifically red sclera from moments before was once more replaced by soft brown. Miraculously, he seemed healed. "Eyes to me, Sire," Two fingers cradled the king's chin as he looked into shocked, brown eyes, seeing even by the flickering firelight a pair of healthy pupils dilating. The redness was fading as well before their very eyes. "The smoke burned your eyes, Your Grace," he said in humbling relief and carefully let go of the royal's chin only for his hand to touch the boy's shoulder.

"Cordial?" Edmund asked though he was still trying to catch up. The last he remembered was _pain_. Unending and foreign in the most horrible of ways.

Hadron nodded and looked down. "Sire."

"Thank you," he said, still panting slightly, more from shock than damage. Lucy's sobs had quieted to a disconcerting weeping. Soundless but no less paralyzing. "Lu, I'm alright," Edmund whispered, feeling his own relief so distinctly. He realized Lucy was most likely feeling it as well and stopped trying to console her. Instead reaching up with both arms to hug her tighter.

With a relieved groan he buried his face in her shoulder and breathed in, finding her smell even under the stench of sulfuric smoke.

* * *

Escar had kneeled a few feet away from the now resting king and queen. Hands folded in front of him and his thoughtful gaze on their slender forms. "We can't spare any men, Hadron," Baro explained softly. Repeating himself from an earlier argument.

Escar clenched his jaw, but stood up with surprisingly soft movements to approach his brother. He touched a hand to Baro's arm and looked him in the eye, noticing for the first time in years how much he had aged. Short, dark hair seeming slightly silver in the strange moonlight. "I need to protect them," he whispered.

They both glanced over at the youngsters, where Hadron was still poised. Guarding, as though having chosen a path of action that he now refused to veer from. A path Escar recognized only because he knew the man so well. Hadron's allegiance had shifted from the Terebinthian princes first and foremost, to the Narnian king and queen.

"As do I, brother," Baro whispered right back. He suddenly smiled. "You are so much like Father," he said, still in a whisper. "He would've been proud had he been here."

A hot grief welled up in Escar's eyes at the words. At the thought of family lost to death and distance. "We need to get them home," he said and nodded to the children.

Baro's smile vanished and he looked back at them as well. "I know," They watched for a beat before both looked at each other again. "We will."

At the cost of them both, if need be.

* * *

Night lingered for what felt like years as stars slowly rotated across their dome.

Many hours after their harrowed escape Lucy moved in half-consciousness. She shifted closer to Edmund and opened her eyes from one second to the next without the slow transformation from sleep to wakefulness. She felt warmth by her head and found a seated Hadron watching her. The older man gave her a soft smile when she looked at him. She turned to Edmund who began stirring as well.

She watched until his brown eyes opened, as hers had, with unerring awareness from one second to the next. "Lucy," he whispered.

"She is alright, King Edmund," Hadron said quietly. "As are we all for now," A large, warm hand rested on Edmund's crown very briefly, but was removed when the king made moves to rise. Hadron, remembering his place, removed his hands and supported them to their feet.

As they rose they saw others do the same. They were fourteen present. Edmund knew eight of them, counting Lucy, by name. The last five were nameless faces. Three soldiers and two miners. One was from the mine entrance where he had sat guard over his dead comrade for hours.

He studied them all with a blank expression. Baro and Escar drew nearer and brought the rest cautiously curious, all watching him and Lucy. "What happened?" he asked. Lucy appeared to be triaging herself quietly next to him, but looked to him at his question.

"I set fire to the vines, Your Majesty," Hadron answered and looked down. He backed away from the two in obvious shame.

Edmund frowned. "I don't remember that."

"They exploded," Lucy said softly as she watched her brother with an unreadable expression. "I felt the blast, but I think you watched it," She looked at the smooth skin around his eyes.

He swallowed and tried to remember, but drew a blank. The wind blew constantly on the roof, in the dark, and he shivered. Drew Lucy closer in an open embrace.

"I apologize, Sire," Hadron confessed. He looked on the verge of tears and Edmund took pity.

"Don't for a second," He lightened his voice and found to his surprise that it came quite effortlessly. "You only did as I asked. If there's blame it lies solely with me," Hadron averted his eyes so Edmund released his sister and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hadron."

The two studied each other. The captain's eyes skidded to Lucy's before he nodded and turned away. Leaving Edmund to draw a breath as he looked around at the rest of them. "Well, at least now we know _that_ doesn't work."

He caught Bilfred's conspiring smile and felt a modicum of success.

"They stopped burning a while ago and there are no more left on this roof," Escar said. "Perhaps we should move?"

Lucy nodded against his shoulder, but it was he who spoke. "Alright."

The prince nodded and started for a neighboring rooftop. The two houses stood only a foot from one another and were easily scaled. The third one as well. "Here," one of the miners called. "There's more vines 'ere."

"Then we stop here," Escar allowed even though Edmund keenly recognized the longing in his voice. A longing to keep walking. Edmund imagined him as the sort of man who would exhaust all avenues of escape before he simply began walking till he dropped. Edmund found to his surprise that he felt quite removed from what had transpired and felt no urges to do any particular thing. A quick look around revealed similar expressions on most of their faces.

But stop they did and new fires were lit. Two; one in each corner of the newly chosen roof, to guard against unwanted shadows. The group huddled together in the center and in unspoken agreement divided themselves into guards and guarded. All but three lay down to sleep; three soldiers, Hadron among them. He stayed awake, sitting cross-legged a foot or so from Lucy. Edmund curled up on her other side, facing her.

Without a word she shifted until she was pressed against his side, arms and legs folded close to conserve heat. The nights were not undue cold, but the wind chilled and the soldiers' cloaks only covered so many.

The guards rotated after an estimated three hours. Fires were stoked and more vines added. Edmund woke as they did and took watch with the three men. Baro, a miner named Solor, one soldier Edmund didn't know the name of, and himself.

The four shared looks amongst themselves, but quickly took up seats with fronts to the night. The darkness was lighter than Edmund expected. The glorious night sky had nothing to outshine it and the ethereal pinpricks of light or a distant celestial gasses made the limestone rooftops glow. Turned shadows sapphire blue.

Thus the four sat for many hours until a burst of light above roused them.

The mood of the red haze that had dominated the northern sky was fractured by the mischievous, blue tail of a blinking comet. All four exhaled at the wondrous sight and watched the rock streak across red swirls, past indifferent stars. Edmund smiled and found to his surprise that Baro smiled with him. The two grinned at each other, but said nothing.

* * *

More hours passed in silence as the four watched for other celestial events, though none of particular note occurred. Three new guards were awoken for a shift change, but Edmund briefly wondered if they should relocate. It wouldn't matter how many times they rotated during the long night, they would die of thirst before the sun rose if they stayed asleep. But sleep had been ever so elusive and their harrowed escape had only managed to exhaust them further.

He mentioned as much when Baro made to lie down. It was not the crown prince who answered, but rather his brother. "We'll let you sleep a few hours before we head out," Henodded towards Lucy, and Edmund found himself rather disinclined to argue. As soon as he lay down she made a soft sound and snuggled closer, burying her little hands in his jerkin and her face against his chest. Chilled fingers wriggling under his collar.

He folded his arms around her and allowed sleep to reclaim him.

Their rest was shattered after what felt strangely like hours, yet only seconds, by a cheerful call. As one the group roused, those on watch stood up with drawn weapons. One soldier notched an arrow and faced the oncoming threat. It was the familiar shape of a small man with wild hair that made his way towards the group. "My friends!" the maniac called and giggled, spreading his arms in greeting. Not sensing the threat of weapons.

"What the Devil…" Escar whispered as Kairon stumbled onto their roof and entered the light of their flickering fires.

"I bring _wonderful_ news!" he laughed as he stumbled closer.

A surge went through the gathered as they got their first, good look at the man. "Kairon…" Lucy moaned and put her hands over her mouth. The man giggled and stumbled to a stop when Escar and two men angled their swords at him.

His eyes were wide open and a smile cut open his mouth to reveal grey teeth and black foamy spittle at each corner of his lips. "My Queen!" he squawked and shuddered. Edmund watched in horror how a black tendril was curled protectively around one reddened nostril. "I've f-found it!" he exclaimed and spread his arms, eliciting more weapons drawn by any who had one.

His fingers were blue and the rest of him almost grey. His breath wheezed on every inhale as though difficult to draw and he looked _exhausted_. "Kairon-" Edmund began, but stopped when he stuttered over what to say.

"I'm cured, Your Majesties," he said through a grin. A burst of laughter exploded from him and with it followed little drops of grey spit. Those closest retreated with weapons out at the ready.

"Stay there, Kairon," Escar ordered. "Where is your boy?"

Kairon watched the prince uncomprehendingly before he looked directly at Lucy. "My Queen, I require your assistance-"

"That's close enough!" Baro ordered when Kairon made to take another step.

"But I-" Kairon stuttered and grabbed his shirt with uncoordinated hands. He raised it up to reveal large, blooming bruises across his distended abdomen. "I'm c-cured, Your Majesty," he said to Lucy. He took a quivering breath when something inside him moved under his skin. "It- It," He fell silent and started again abruptly. "It thought it could _eat_ me... But I won," he muttered as an afterthought.

"Kairon, where is Phi," she asked.

"Who?" he giggled.

"Phi!" she barked. "Your page, where _is_ he?"

"I have no page," he muttered and allowed a string of drool to leak down his front. Grey against the worn shirt. "S-something…" He gestured back into the darkness and slowly turned back in the direction he'd come. He almost stumbled in the process, but finally angled his back to the gathered.

"Oh God."

To their horror he revealed a shredded backside with barely any fabric or skin left. Deep grooves ran through his muscles in diagonal tears where white knobs of fat sparkled amidst coagulating blood. Here and there the pearly white of a bone shone through and with every inhale they saw his insides move.

"Kairon," Lucy whispered.

In one gash across his lower back something black and horrific surfaced before it burrowed deeper inside him. Edmund swallowed with wide eyes transfixed on the gruesome sight.

Not a member among them thought on the cause until suddenly there came a howl in the distance.

All shot their gazes past Kairon. "They came for the rotting corpses," Kairon muttered before he promptly fell to his knees and collapsed on the ground.

Another howl ripped through the darkness. It didn't sound like anything Edmund had ever heard. He arm snuck out to grab hold of Lucy as she shifted closer. "What was that?" Hadron whispered next to them.

For a few seconds everyone stared fixedly in the same direction. "I think you were right about those predators, Captain," Escar muttered as he signaled a man to take aim at the sound. The captain raised his sword and was copied by his princes.

Edmund pushed himself in front of Lucy and drew Shaefelm.

No sound followed in the silence but for a hurrying scuffle of gravel and near soundless footsteps, running. A sound, almost a snort, came from below, _within_ the building on which they were standing. "They're in the house," Edmund muttered in horror and watched a soldier turn his bow on a gaping hole in the floor.

A yip called from below and the sounds of running stopped. One, massive paw reached out of the hole to proceed a body. A muscular front leg followed, quickly joined by a set of thickly muscled shoulders. A pale hide, riddled with long solitary hairs, more like spines, came into view. Long, curved claws dug into the limestone as the creature yanked itself onto the roof in a smooth leap.

It heaved deep breaths and watched the group through small eyes. Its throat arched up into a set of long jaws and a wide, cylindrical snout, ridged in a snarl. Brown blood painted its muzzle and teeth as it was lit up by the flickering fires like some primodial scene. It loosed another snort that vibrated the thin skin on its cheeks and pounded through air like a rattling war-bark. Yellow eyes with blown pupils watched them in candid, animalistic greed as saliva quivered over pointed teeth.

Suddenly several barks answered from the darkness, both below their feet and from neighboring rooftops.

Edmund felt the fear of exposure keenly and glanced over the pale blue roofs to the beasts hidden by shadow.

"We can't fight that thing," Escar breathed. It stood almost at his height. His sword had lowered and concentration was, like the others', fixed between the sounds from the darkness and on the strange creature. It snorted at the fire closest to it, seemingly only slightly bothered, and blinked its narrow eyes like a small critter batting its lashes at the sun. Smacking its jaws and licking them.

"I fear you're right, Prince Escar," Hadron answered just as breathlessly. He drew in, signaling his men to do the same. Taking up defensive positions in a loose circle around the four royals.

"Where do we go?" a soldier asked. Hadron looked around the rooftop in distress. "There's no clear path."

"We need to go down," Hadron muttered though Escar immediately refused.

Edmund looked around as well and saw a neighboring building was close enough to jump to.

"What about Kairon," Lucy asked.

"Leave him," Bilfred growled in an uncharacteristic display of rage.

It must've been Edmund's imagination, but the pale blue sky in the east seemed slightly lighter than it had been when he last was awake. "We move east," he said. A few of the others glanced at him and the direction in question. Without waiting for their say-so he pulled Lucy towards the gap. "Do you think you can jump?" he called even as they moved. Terebinthians taking up positions to defend their rear.

She nodded and drew back to get a running start. With a light leap she crossed onto the other rooftop and Edmund was quick to follow, readying his sword at the tripping shadows that danced along their flanks. The strange dogs had exited onto the roof of their former camp, some shying away from the fire, others snapping at it.

He turned and willed Baro to act. "What are you waiting for?" he shouted when none of them moved. "C'mon!"

Then, as one, all turned and ran for the second rooftop. The dogs drew away from the exit and let out their slightly melodic barks as the humans fled to the neighboring roof. The animals skirted along the edge of the firelight, fretting at the light. They began following, testingly.

Some lashed out at the last Terebinthian to cross the gap, almost as though toying with their prey. The smell of their deceased compatriots had drawn the beasts to Kairon and Kairon had led them back. He had been with the corpses, the dogs as well. He realized absently that they were still unsure what humans _were_.

"The corpses," he called and jogged towards the next roof in a crouch. "We need to lead them back to the corpses and lose them there."

They had fed once, perhaps a less resistant meal could deter their attention.

The gaps between buildings were tiny to the massive animals and he felt pretty sure their inaction was mostly due to full bellies. They followed at a languid pace, snapping each other; each clapping of jaws came down with a rush of displaced air that shook Edmund's diaphragm. None of them ran for fear of a misstep. For fear of awakening some latent instinct in their aggressors.

The group retreated in a tight circle as they slunk deeper into the shadows.

Lucy, who had instantly picked up on her brother's idea, began guiding their band of humans in the direction of the abandoned corpses. She leapt across the gap of a conjoined building like a spry cricket and landed lightly on the other side, her little dagger drawn. Edmund was right behind her with his sword drawn; both pairs of eyes fixed on any movements.

"Stick close," he called her softly and felt, not just she, but the entire group tighten. Not a single arrow had been loosened or a sword swung in defense, but all of them felt the unease at their predators' unpredictability.

They were too vulnerable on the rooftops. Would remain so until they retreated to lower ground. Suddenly he understood Hadron's command. They would have to pick between one monster or the other.

"They've probably never tasted human-flesh before," one of the miners said, loud enough to be heard by all.

"Let's not give them a chance to taste it," Escar muttered flush by Edmund's side with angry eyes on the dogs that crept along their flanks. "How many do you count?" he asked the group.

It was Hadron and Levy who answered. "Seven in the rear."

"Three starboard," the Second added.

"Four ahead of us," Edmund's focus was primed on Lucy beside him even as his eyes watched every movement of the four beasts in front of them.

She kept pace one step behind and to his right, as she had been taught by Peter. A dark corner of his mind was happy that his siblings were no longer strangers to danger, because in the very darkest corner of his mind he knew it would make his task simpler. Breath forcibly slow, eyes keen, and his fingers prickling with tension, he knew with a sudden, unwavering certainty that he could leave the others behind should the situation warrant it. He recognized a darkness born of years of guilt and anger that would cheat and lie if it meant Lucy would survive to see their siblings again. It settled inside him like the warmth of home and molded itself seamlessly into his image of King and Duty. He could become her protector and _nothing_ else.

"Steady," Hadron called, still at the rear guard. Their pace tempered as they approached a familiar structure.

"It can't be far," Baro called. Edmund glanced at him and found his sword-hand shaking.

"Tighten," Hadron ordered when a miner drew away from the circle. A soldier reeled him back in.

"They're sticking with us," Bilfred commented when two dogs snapped at each other in irritation. They matched the humans step by step, circling. Waiting.

Prince Escar suddenly called to attention and began moving purposefully. As they approached, Edmund watched his four dogs in front rejoin one of their pack members that had been left behind. It was smaller than the others and had seemingly lingered with the corpses as its fellows left to follow Kairon.

It was greedily swallowing the remnants of someone's soft intestines. It looked saw its fellows and growled, reluctant to release its catch. "Keep your arrows at the ready," Escar ordered. "If you must fire, aim for the eyes or joints. Make it count."

Edmund heard a soldier do as ordered and take perfect aim for the apparent leader. "We arch around," Lucy called and began directing Edmund left of the roof. The smell of the dead hung in the air and made several creatures perk their noses. It would appear some of them at least had already eaten of the corpses and were anxious for more.

"Steady…" Hadron cautioned as they scaled a half wall to change rooftops. One, dog lost interest as they did and rejoined its pack. Most of whom had been drawn in once again by the corpses. "King Edmund, stay at the head," Hadron ordered when the young king began to slow his retreat to still be facing the animals. The captain gestured his soldiers between the dogs and their fellows even as some of the monsters lingered in slow pursuit. "They're still sizing us up."

"Over there," Lucy said and pointed to a collapsed wall. She skipped over, now protected by their entire group, and looked down at a web of vines. "It's the only way down, but the ash vines are everywhere," She glanced back, but found their collective attention fastened on one of the suddenly advancing monsters.

"See if there's a way through them, Lu. Quickly," Edmund muttered even as his breaths stilled and the anticipation of a kill lightened his sword. The leader of the beasts had no real interest in the half-eaten carcasses of its previous meal, when it had a far fresher one in its sights. "We'll need it."

* * *

TBC

AN: So sorry for the wait!


	10. The Hunting Grounds

A/N: Note to self - Never edit tired. Last chapter was edited and posted waaay after my bedtime. With this one I did not- well I did the exact same thing only hopefully better.

Also, I love you :*

* * *

Chapter 10: The Hunting Grounds

The smell was sickening. Most of the corpses had begun to evacuate their bodily fluids hours into decomposition and Edmund was surprised Kairon had willingly come back to the victims of his own trespasses. "I don't see Phi," he called back to Lucy though his eyes were still on the creatures that now began to circle the humans in rising interest. Most of them having discarded the carcasses.

The smallest of the pack was still chewing on remains with wary eyes on its larger pack members; having freed an arm of its decomposed socket, chewing nervously on half rotted gristle of a shoulder joint with wide eyes darting around to its brethren. It was Bastian, Edmund realized, by the maroon piece of sleeve still attached to the limb.

" _No_ ," Baro cried out as he saw the same and looked for remains of his older brother in, what must have been, a feeding frenzy. The bodies had been ripped apart and were being jostled again as some of the larger dogs nosed at them. The white stone roof was marred by brown splatters and smears.

Deranged madness rippled across the crown prince's face and his sudden jolt forwards was only halted because of Hadron's quick reflexes. "Prince Escar," he called, searching either for support or sensing the younger prince about to make the same deadly mistake.

A ripple of readiness shot through them all as the creatures collectively moved away from the corpses. "Take up defensive positions," the captain ordered his men, reinforcing the perimeter around his sovereigns, Narnian and Terebinthian alike. The soldiers with swords and bows stood in front of the miners who had only knives or nothing at all, who in turn were in front of the royals.

"Archers," Hadron called and raised his hand. "Ready."

A couple of predators had followed their leader's focus to fresh prey, leaving the scavenging to their brethren. They were stalking towards the humans, more surely now that a fire wasn't flickering against their skin, casting uneasy shadows. Blood colored their muzzles and saliva strung from crooked teeth. A couple snapped at each other, but remained focused on their prey. Their _live_ prey. Apparently the taste of human flesh was to their liking.

" _Aim_ ," Hadron ordered in a low voice.

The sound of three measly bowstrings flexing as a set of powerful jaws crunched through bone and another pair snapped at the air.

Edmund held his breath. His sword felt light as adrenalin pumped through his veins, pumping blood into his muscles. When the first predator made to leap at them Hadron let the arrows fly. " _Fire_!"

Three arrows whistled through the darkness and hit their marks. "Ready," he called again not even stuttering when only one of the creatures were thwarted by the pain. Edmund counted seven of them, redirecting attention away from the corpses; three were engrossed in the carrion and four lingered on the fringes of the roof. The pack leader took two arrows, the third finding its home in the knee joint of another. Both seemed more annoyed than wounded. The uninjured yipped at its compatriots, as though chastising them. They slowed their advance, perhaps surprised their meal was biting back.

"Hold," Hadron called to his men when the third one changed directions and shied back with whimpers for its ailing friends. The leader regained its feet only to collapse right back down with a snarl. Edmund caught how the motion pushed dark blood gushing from the wounds in its flank and neck.

He couldn't help the grin that tore across his face. If these creatures thought humans were easy meal they had another thing coming. One of the soldiers let an arrow slip in warning and chased one of the creatures back another step. "Easy…" Hadron called when a yet uninjured beast made a threatening flinch forward, jaws pounding shut, with staggering force. One bite would crush through bone.

It looked to its one dying leader and the other, writhing in pain, mewling in sympathy. Following its progress as the wounded one shuffled back. Savage joy rippled through the small band of humans despite the shortage of arrows.

A primordial sense of victory overcame the small band of brothers. Victory over a superior enemy.

The others who had yet to abandon the carcass seemed drawn to the smell of their brethren's blood and made no move to attack the humans. "I believe we should make our retreat," Bilfred stuttered out of breath as he eyed the dead leader and its wounded beta.

The other beasts circled their weakened mates and a shocking realization thrummed through Edmund's stomach. The first to attack its dying fellow was one of the largest ones in the pack. It snarled and leapt in frightening display of muscles. In one jump it pounced and knocked over the injured. As though it had been a call to war the rest charged, either the injured or the dying and bit into them any place they could get hold. With the sound of ripping hide and gristle crunching free one managed to rip a chunk out of its flank. Another severed the throat of its half dead brother. Both were instantly joined by the rest and the humans were summarily dismissed, dead as well as alive.

The men withdrew and followed Lucy when she nimbly slipped down the half toppled wall. The corpses were left behind. Kairon had been left behind. Edmund felt ill with shame at the thought, but knew they had little other choice if they wanted to survive. Rationalized away the nausea.

And so, as the two instigators were shredded by teeth and claws, the Narnian and Terebinthian group withdrew into the shady streets below. The dawn that had begun to blossom in the east hadn't yet reached in between the high buildings and ash vines still writhed freely. Spindly threads reached for the light-footed humans as hurried to distance themselves to sounds of a carnage.

"They'll leave with the night," Escar said shakily with dark eyes in the direction of the creatures.

"We'll come back and salvage what we can," Baro promised. Edmund put a hand on his sister's back and urged her forward. He had no desire to return only to be faced with bodies they had no way of burying, nursing the instinct to press forward as he followed Lucy over rubble and vines, deeper into an unforgiving city.

Lucy leapt onto a boulder that had once been fired with intent to crumble a bridge. The bridge still stood, though the river below had long since dried out and now only played home to black, writing vines. They skipped quickly over the weathered stone on soundless feet. Not directly towards the mine, but following the cliffs that rose like knives, away from the enemy at their backs.

Edmund glanced heavenward when _finally_ a wall face lit up in pale yellow and the sky went from blue to grey. The dawn was coming and even as it did an image flashed before his mind's eye, of Bastian's severed limbs, intestines, and head.

* * *

They ran until the roads of the abandoned city began to clear of monstrous plants. They watched the noxious creatures retreat with indignant hisses as the bright sunlight crept all the way to the ground and bathed the sky in brilliant gold.

The air began to warm and sweat began to pour liberally down chins and backs. "Stop!" Escar called. "We need to stop."

He was panting badly, as were most of them. Those fairing best seemed to be Lucy and Edmund. He looked at his sister and found the same longing in her own eyes. She wanted to keep moving and _could_ have, eyes darting to the cliffs they were still running parallel to. Something savage drew a slim smirk onto his face and though she didn't mirror it, he felt somehow she understood. She could out run them if she had to.

Despite that she nodded her acceptance and they stopped. A great deal ahead of the adults and a great deal less strained. She wandered a bit ahead, auburn hair dancing in the sunlight. Edmund turned back to the men. "Do you think they've gone back to wherever they came from?" he asked Hadron.

The soldiers wore heavy leathers and armor, not to mention their weapons. Hadron's face was one of many that were flushed, but a stout expression belied his will to appear strong. "I believe so, Sire."

Edmund nodded and skipped to the rear of the group. Tension hummed through every inch of him and he felt stopping now would be of little use. "We should go back," He angled back to look at his sister though they both knew she was not the one who needed convincing.

"We need to drink, King Edmund," Escar panted. He seemed to be regaining control faster than his brother, no doubt thanks to his military upbringing.

"How much water do we have left?" Again he looked to Lucy who wordlessly shook her head.

"Half a skin between us," Hadron said.

"Then we need a way to make more, yes?" Edmund's head swam slightly, but he refused the impulse to lie down. It would do them no good to lie down as the temperature continued to rise. They needed water – or _liquid_. "We all know where we have to go, don't we?" He addressed the captain directly.

Hadron nodded wordlessly, but looked as though it cost him a great deal to do so.

" _Make_ more. How?" Baro asked.

"Kairon," Lucy called. She had stopped panting completely and appeared as though she was barely sweating. Sharp eyes on the group, assessing them. "He found a way to make water from the vines."

"I'm not drinking that _shite_ ," one of the miners yelled furiously, to the surprise of most of them.

Edmund merely arched an eyebrow where his sister showed no reaction at all. "Then you can thirst," he muttered and turned back in the direction they had come. "Those who wish to, may follow us."

"King Edmund-"

"It's folly to think we have the luxury of rest," he bit out, frustration getting the better of him. A headache began to pound mercilessly behind his eye. "We need supplies to reproduce Kairon's results. We know perfectly well where to find those supplies, but I understand the exhaustion you're all feeling."

"Some of us didn't sleep half the night," Baro bit out. He too, had calmed since their flight, but now only looked pale and worried.

 _Weak_ , Jadis supplied mercilessly. Edmund fought a sneer that wanted escape and drew a deep breath. His fingers were cold in wild disagreement with the rest of his body. He looked to his sister for certainty and received a nod. "We'll go back and bring the supplies back to the mine. You head there. Keep a lookout for enemies," They had taken the long way around, wary of another attack. Wary of anything watching them, following them back.

He waited for confirmation, _not_ _permission_ , his mind enforced. "Very well, I'll come with you," Escar said. "Gedeminas, you follow us. Hadron, you're with Baro. Find someplace in the shade we can rest without being eaten, will you?" He managed a small smile to his commander before he gestured for Edmund to lead the way, his strawberry blonde archer close behind him.

Edmund in turn drew _Lucy_ up to lead them. He had seen her navigate the forests of home and knew she was unparalleled. Had seen her navigate the streets _here_. She and Peter perhaps tied for first place, he amended with a grin, but she had always had an unerring sense of direction. In all things.

"Come, men," Bilfred roused those who remained as Edmund turned a corner.

* * *

The four of them climbed the wall when they returned to the roof and paused at the edge, peering over with the archer at the ready. "They've gone," Escar said and slipped over. "Take only what we need."

Edmund heard his voice quiver, though he strode purposefully over to one of the dead beasts and yanked out an intact arrow. Ignoring his brother's corpse. "Gedeminas, help me rip down the shelter," Lucy called with a quick smile and one watchful eye on Escar. She looked to Edmund who nodded his understanding.

He approached the prince who stared balefully down at one of the creatures that had defiled his brother's corpse. "They broke most of the pottery, but he had some sort of contraption on a concave stone. I could probably rebuild it," Edmund said as he drew up next to Escar and stared down at the carcass.

"What were those things," the prince muttered.

"This world's wolves probably."

The older man stared at him.

Edmund shrugged and looked out over the bright horizon. "They move like a pack of animals and they bark. I've been calling them 'dogs' in my mind, but that hardly does them justice, do you think?" He kept his voice light and hoped for some sort of familiarity to flare as it had a couple times before. Something warned him to step lightly.

" _Wolves_ ," Escar repeated and looked back down at the animal. "Tell me, King Edmund. Have you ever eaten _wolf_?"

Edmund inhaled through his nose and looked out over the rooftop. "No."

"It's quite horrid," Escar sneered through a grin. His eyes looked like they were tearing up and a stab of pity suddenly jabbed at Edmund's gut.

"Escar-"

"Say we ate _them_ ," he asked in a light voice. He looked at the king. "We need to eat," He spread his arms. "And I see nothing else for us to dine on so what do you say?"

Edmund took a second to watch him before he sighed deeply and glanced once more at the horizon. "Do you know how to skin it?"

A mad smile lit up the prince's face. "No."

Edmund nodded. "We do," he said directly to him.

"I know," Escar smiled wider.

"You know a lot of things about us and yet in comparison we knew very little about you."

He quelled his smile though it looked more like he wanted to laugh. "The rumors reach Terebinthia the same way they reach the other isles."

Edmund nodded. "And yet _you_ never came to visit. Why is that?"

The urge to laugh vanished completely from his face. He swallowed. Galma had been the second nation to reach out, followed closely by Tashbaan. Only preceded by Archenland.

Edmund angled to face him. "We hear rumors too, Prince Escar," Half an eye was on his sister and Gedeminas, tearing down the shelter that once protected the corpses. She had an eye on the two of them in return, he knew. "Or perhaps rather fairytales, since most are over a hundred years old," He smirked. "I've heard stories of the greatest navy ever to sail the Silver Seas," He tipped his head and stepped closer. "Rumors that a plague ripped through the royal line during Jadis' reign and spared no one."

Escar snorted, but turned away.

Edmund stopped and allowed the conversation to fall to the ground. "I'll go pack Kairon's things," he muttered with a last glance at the beast. Little insects hummed in the air above it, though it weren't flies or any bugs he'd ever seen. The sight didn't disgust him as much as it should have.

He took the stone and bundled it in his jerkin. The pots and skins of water from the ash vines had been knocked over. Crushed most of them, but he remembered some of the contraptions. When he returned his sister was perched over the creature along with the dark haired prince and Gedeminas.

"Anyone who knows how to skin an animal?" the soldier asked the three of them in an unconscious repeat of Escar's question. Escar glanced sideways at Edmund though none of them immediately answered.

"We do," Edmund sighed eventually, deciding to try and maintain a simili of civility.

At Gedeminas' look of surprise Lucy stepped in. "When half your country is populated by talking Animals it's quite imperative to be proficient at identifying the right ones," she said and shrugged. "We hunted and so we were taught how to treat the animal once we'd killed it."

"It felt prudent," Edmund added to Escar deliberately.

The prince snorted with his eyes downturned.

"We'll need those skins to carry it in," he said and pointed to the remains of the shelter Lucy and Gedeminas held.

She nodded as Edmund sheathed his sword. "We should just carve it here," she said. "Make sure not to leave a trail they can follow," No one asked to which _they_ she referred.

He gestured for her to join him in front of its belly and kneeled as she drew her knife. It was a little taller than him and easily five times his weight. "Could someone hand me a dagger?" he asked the two adults.

Lucy was about to hand him one of her hidden ones, but he waved her off and accepted one from Gedeminas. It was stupid of him not to have brought one, but unlike his sword which was just as much ceremonial as it was practical, the dagger was only brought along in hostile situations.

A diplomatic voyage to Terebinthia hadn't been viewed as such. With their compiling track record he should've known better.

He forced up the heavy foreleg as Lucy sawed a vertical line down the beast's belly, through coarse skin. He kept hold of the muscled leg as she cut through the outer layer of muscle and shifted when a surge of black blood welled out onto the roof. It smelled foul and had Edmund and the two adults drawing back in shock. Not Lucy though. Edmund shifted under its leg to keep it propped up and keep the stomach open as Lucy carefully cut through the intestinal wall to get a closer look inside. He groaned when a secondary wave of smell spread. Frowned when he realized that nothing looked familiar.

Lucy was kneeled next to him, knees covered in black blood, and looked into the dead animal as well. The comical aspect of the situation was not lost on Edmund, but he was more than a little confounded about what he saw. "It has no stomach," he said and met her eyes briefly before he turned back to the animal. "Or liver."

She frowned in that delicate way of hers and cut through layers of tendons to the ribcage, getting the strangely colored blood on her fingers. "We'll need something to break the bones with," She looked up at Escar and Gedeminas, who looked disgusted. She sighed, perfectly aware that not many royals knew how to prepare animals themselves, but began sawing loose the pelt from the inner layer of muscle along its flank. "Help me lift?" she asked as she and Edmund flipped over the liberated pelt and foreleg. It laid, spread open like a grotesque butterfly and the little bugs in the air hummed merrily. He wafted one from his face and got a bit of blood on his chin. Groaned at the smell.

Lucy thought as she worked, how she had realized quite early on that Narnia was both crude and beautiful in its own way. Especially compared to many of the established nations around it, as clearly evidenced by their two companions. A realization that had seldom caused her shame, though it blossomed quite fiercely in that moment.

She was well aware that her brothers had been trained to defend their country like soldiers. That she and Susan had been taught to help their country in any way necessary beyond throwing parties and solving conflicts. She was _also_ aware that Oreius wanted the queens to learn the art of combat just as their brothers had, and _were still_.

Unbeknownst to Susan, Lucy had already begun with simple sword training under a certain Satyr named Astos. She trained to use her dagger under the strict tutelage of Naharaiya, the Centaur in charge of all new Centaurs who joined the royal army, and master of the Dance of Twin Blades. A difficult feat for any four-legged creature.

Neither of her brothers knew about it, or so she hoped. She would've liked to remain their darling, little sister for as long as she could, but doubted Edmund would ever think of her in quite that way after their trip here.

"Thank you," Edmund was handed a rock from nearby by Gedeminas and took a practice swing before he crushed the ribcage with a controlled thump. The crunch elicited moans from the prince, who looked decidedly ill. He was pale, almost green, and swallowed convulsively before he suddenly withdrew and vomited violently. There was hardly anything left in his stomach to expel. Edmund sighed, knowing the prince would only become all the more dehydrated.

Lucy peeled tendons from the muscles and severed them from bones. Edmund knew by the calculating look in her eye that she was already imagining their practical applications. In Narnia tendons were still used for everything from bowstring to instruments and even sowing thread.

"Where's the heart?" he asked in surprise. His hands had been burrowing through the meat and black smears covered his arms up to his elbows.

Lucy helped him and pulled back something that looked like a lung. "Here," She removed a flap of muscle on the right side of the chest. The heart was buried under a second wall of compact bone and was on the right side as opposed to the left. She tapped it before she moved her eyes further down. "And this must be his liver?" She cut something free and held it up for him to see.

He frowned at the strange looking organ. "It looks wrong."

"Well, it's yellow," She smiled, evidently finding the moment very amusing.

Edmund snorted and dove back into the opened corpse. "Colon…" he stated matterfactly as he began removing long lines of tubular intestines, privately disgusted at the feel of knobby, little _things_ inside them. Not much liquid, even in the blood which flowed thicker than Narnian blood.

Lucy frowned openly in disgust and was glad to see him discard the lines of colon. "I need something to wrap this in," she told Gedeminas. He was looking mightily pale and uncomfortable. "Soldier?"

But the young man failed to move and simply stared at the disgusting cadaver until his prince called for attention, having wiped any evidence of his sickness. " _Soldier_ ," he barked and shocked the man from his trance.

"Skins? Pieces of clothing?" Lucy elaborated patiently, nodding to the pile right at his feet. "Anything," She had carved free what was most assuredly lungs. Devoid of air they looked more like an opaque jellyfish on land, Edmund thought. _A rather sick one_ , he allowed.

Gedeminas nodded and pulled up a flap from someone's vest. Edmund cracked the bone that surrounded a deflated heart as Lucy placed the lungs into the soldier's waiting hands and watched him swallow convulsively. "Deep breaths," she advised. "Wrap it," she bade when he seemed frozen.

"Escar, I need you to take the heart," Edmund called as he severed a large vein that looked black as the blood. He was presented with a flap of something that might once have been the lining of a cloak by the prince. Escar wrapped the rather large muscle with efficient movements and swallowed down a second wave of sickness, closing his eyes to the sight.

"I had a piece of cloth a moment ago," Lucy muttered.

"For what?"

"The liver."

"And we're certain this is the liver?" He eyed the rather putrid-looking organ doubtfully. "It looks more like a gallbladder."

Lucy giggled, but instantly caught herself. "Edmund, stop it," She handed him a piece of cloth to hold at the ready.

She had surprised him by laughing, but as he looked at her he realized why she had done it. This was almost _normal_. They couldn't count the number of times they had gone hunting with friends of the court and cut out the heart of their prey to serve up as reward for a kill. It was a piece of _home_ and, Edmund hoped, a way to keep his sister from forgetting what it looked like.

Despite the organs there wasn't much to eat. The animal had next to no fat on its body and what they found was different in texture and color from normal animal fat. Besides that most of its muscles had been shredded by its kindred before they left. Half its jaw was missing as though one of them had attempted to rip it out.

Edmund focused on the joints where a little bit of muscle still resided, sawing through tendons and gristle to liberate jagged edges of bone, knicking ligaments in the process. He had an intuitive sense that muscle and gristle alone would keep them fed for quite a while. Perhaps as dried meats perhaps? Soup? And wondered if he wouldn't find a use for the bones as well. _Knives perhaps?_

The bundles of meat were packed into make-shift bags, made from jackets or vests. Tied together with pieces of string. Lucy smirked at the thought of the tendons she had freed. They would come in handy. The only thing she couldn't bring herself to touch were the yards of intestines. She had a keen understanding of exactly what had filled up the bellies of these creatures and felt no desire to come into contact with anything she might remotely recognize. She had once found an undigested tooth in the belly of a bear Susan shot. The dumb animal had roamed too closely to populated areas and had been taken down. It was Susan's first unassisted kill. She had surprised them all by eating the heart at the feast the very same evening, embracing the feral nature that came so naturally to Narnians.

Lucy smiled at the memory as she rose to face Escar and Gedemina. It was only then that she paused and looked down herself. She was covered down the front of her dress in black, quickly drying ooze. She took a moment to attempt to identify the emotion that welled up inside her, but rather quickly decided to spare the time for walking. Her brother's perfunctory touch was brushed away.

"Shall we go?"

The prince and his man had bundled their provisions into bags, now slung over their shoulders along with the unused scraps of cloth.

Edmund rolled his hands through the sand that had collected atop the roof and scrubbed off some of the blood, catching Lucy doing the same. With a last glance back at the carnage, he followed the three of them back down.

Escar was leaving behind his half eaten brother. The soldier was leaving behind a comrade. Edmund and Lucy, who left behind nothing, felt a sudden calm in the wake of performing something they had both done before, despite the glaring differences in scenery. Despite the distance from their home or friends to share the moment with. Despite only having sand to scrub their hands clean.

Edmund watched Escar's back and wondered if he looked as haggard as the taller man. He looked at Gedeminas' quiver and wondered how long before they ran out of arrows.

The Terebinthians both looked near death. Both pale and quiet as they moved mechanically down from the roof, Escar assisting Lucy in a return to his previous chivalry. Lucy shot her brother a look that conveyed her thoughts and found it reflected back. They both followed along silently and shared glances with one another, smiles when they could spare it.

Edmund sighed and wondered how long they would have to call this city home. Not long he hoped. He looked at the sky and wondered what the sky looked like above Cair Paravel at that very moment. What Peter and Susan were looking at.

* * *

TBC

A/N: As I mentioned, Ed's slipped a bit more into crisis mode. Funny enough Lucy seems to already be there and the Terebinthian princes are just... floundering... Assholes. Honestly.

Let me know what you think of their progression? If there's anything you'd like to see happen. If it fits, I sits :)


	11. The Bight of Calormen

_Disclaimer: First of, some of you will have noticed I'm using some of Elecktrum's characters and have used them for other stories. I asked her a great, long while ago for permission and was granted it (you have my never-ending thanks for that). But I'm also taking liberties. For instance, I'm not playing within her canon, but kidnapping characters from it and stuffing them into my own sandbox (…which sounds way naughtier than it did in my head). In this instance, you may have already recognized Celer, Faun captain and sword's master. Honorable mentions of Kanell might occur as we progress. You may as well recognize Dame Utha, Galmian navigator, and indirectly, Ricanus, a Tiger of the Palace Guard. All wonderful characters from Elecktrum's universe. I'll try and keep track should others appear, but as a general rule anyone you recognize belongs to someone else – I am mostly borrowing here. Except for the times where I flagrantly abuse the site and stuff OC's into my stories_ _;). Second, Oreius belongs to Anderson.  
_

 _A/N: That said, I feel like now is the perfect time in our story for a break in the shade with a cool glass of water? No?_

* * *

Chapter 11: The Bight of Calormen

The mighty _Ouranios_ was, as noted in the beginning of this tale, a mighty vessel of transport. One which kept the lives of many different Animals and Creatures within her womb, including two yellow lovebirds. One, quite ordinary and one a Bird of Narnia.

There were many such Birds in Narnia, but this lovely gentleman, bore the name of Twittlebeak and looked so much like his dumber cousins that he had been chosen to carry messages for both queens on prior occasions. He had been given a cage which he currently shared with one of said dumb cousins; the cage which served as his office on long journeys, had only a tiny door for a Bird such as he to easily open and close. Twittlebeak had once the honor of joining the Queen Susan on an outing to Calormen under the guise he now used as well. He had once been given to Tarkheena Jaerza, granddaughter to Mireya, mother of Shehyzan – The Mighty Tiscroc of Calormen, to spy on the young lady because of her magnificent garden parties. _Oh_ and the things Twittlebeak _heard_ in his time as spy, until one day during his missions, time and time again, he would open the latch to his cage and take flight into the air.

Narnia was part of him, this noble, little Bird. This spring-yellow Lovebird. No matter where he was Narnia would draw him home like a bowstring sent an arrow flying.

And so, with his beak on this day, he opened the latch on his cage and spent a moment watching one of the Captain's men upon his return to the mighty _Ouranios_. He felt instantly the urge to fly, for Twittlebeak was a perceptive Bird, who knew instantly that _something_ , _somehow,_ had gone terribly wrong. On this trip it fell on Twittlebeak's almost non-existent shoulders to alert the two eldest royals of Narnia upon any unintended occurrences revolving the two youngest royals. The faun soldier Titus had relayed his command through the Narnian cousin and thus the kindly, yellow Bird took flight deep into the azure sky on a straight heading towards the heavy, setting sun.

As the sky burned slowly from ochre, to gold, to orange flame, and to red embers Twittlebeak soared on swift updrafts until he saw, from his impressive periphery, an Albatross high above him. Soaring so close to the dark-blue dome near the stars that it nearly looked as though it would drift away into the universe.

With the slightest adjustment the mighty Albatross dove level to his fellow and nodded politely in greeting, asking companionably where the little lord was heading in such a rush. Twittlebeak answered, shouting to be heard over the wind, for his lungs were small compared to those of the Albatross, that he was heading home because an accident had befallen the youngest king and queen on the isle of Terebinthia.

This unnerved the Albatross so greatly that he without hesitation offered his assistance to the young fellow. For the remainder of their journey Twittlebeak dove under the traveler's massive wings and soared in the currents of their wake. He would swear until his dying day that no living thing except for the Great Lion Himself could have flown faster than those two, on that night.

The news went over as well as could have been expected. The queen paled and the high king stilled in preparation for something Twittlebeak had no comprehension of. "Where are they now?" Peter the Magnificent asked.

The Bird glanced at the unnerved general, Commander Oreius Cassioson, before he answered: "Titus informed me, Sire. Said the King and Queen were stuck under the mountain, Sire," The queen made a despondent little sound that Twittlebeak instantly feared she might cry and subsequently almost felt like crying himself.

"Nothing else?"

The king looked sad as well and Twittlebeak became doubly heartbroken. He had no recourse in such matters. He was but a lowly messenger and not a soldier or king or queen in charge of making decisions. He was but a Bird.

A little, yellow thing, but perched as he was, in the direct eye line of the Mightiest King of Kings, he felt himself rise and grow into a giant. "Master, Twittlebeak. Will you carry a message for me back to the isle from whence you just came?"

Twittlebeak nodded in the affirmative. He felt he could. He felt, not tired from his long flight, but rather invigorated and prepared for more. If even he could find his most recent wide, winged friend he would be all the more merry to accept. "Most certainly, Your Majesty."

* * *

"What is it?" Baskar snapped as Hellon tapped lightly on the doorframe of his study. "Enter, for Aslan's sake!"

"Sire, a dockworker requested an audience regarding the _Ouranios_."

The king tore his attention away from a map of the Blue Mine, marking the diggers' progress, and looked to Hellon with unerring focus. "What news?"

"A strange happenstance occurred this morn, as the dockworker recalls it. He witnessed a bird take flight from the deck of the ship, Sire."

" _What_?" The king frowned in burgeoning anger over the interruption.

"Sire, the dockworker claims the bird is of Narnian descent. A Talking Bird, Your Majesty."

"And what is his reasoning for making such a claim?"

Hellon cleared his throat and glanced away, clearly uncomfortable. "He claims he has seen this custom enacted on previous occasions. There was an incident in the port of Tashbaan two years prior where a Galmian ship made port for three days."

"And _then_ ," he prompted, impatient with the man's theatricalities.

"An incident in the lower towns caused five Birds of Narnia to take flight. A week later there were rumors of an attack on royalty, though no aggressors were ever tried."

"Which royalty?" The king found himself riveted, despite his better judgement. Fear beginning to blossom in the pit of his stomach.

"I know not, Sire."

"And _what_ , pray tell, does the bird symbolize?"

"A bad omen, Sire."

He scoffed and looked out his window. "Spare me, wretch. Speak plainly!"

"The Birds have been re-inducted into the Royal Narnian Guard to carry missives and to act as spies, My Lord."

His words, heavy in meaning, were only outmatched by his despondent tone. "You fear the bird flew to Narnia with news of the mine?" The king swallowed and let a hand hover over the map.

"No, Sire," Hellon looked regretful at whatever loomed in his mind. "I fear the Bird flew to Narnia to call the Magnificent to war."

The king's breath left him in a great rush as he took in the words. He placed his quivering hand on the map and played with one of the markers for their progress. "Hellon,"

The servant looked up from his study of the floor. "Sire?"

"Where is my son?"

* * *

Hilio watched the proceedings with, what had long transformed from frustration into bleak despondence. He was perched on a mound of gravel, facing the mine. Half-eaten bread in his hands and an untouched decanter of wine at his feet.

"Sire?"

He looked up at the call. His father had sent a small group of men from the Storm. They lingered nervously on the fringes of the dig site after Hilio had explained to them, in no uncertain terms, that they were either to help or stay out of everyone's way. He had participated until he nearly dropped a rock on his own foot, spurring a jolt of anxiety over the prospect of losing yet another heir to the throne. The replacement master miner had ordered the prince on break and the young man had reluctantly capitulated.

As it were, the _Narnian_ guard had refused any and all attempts to be relocated. They lingered stubbornly, insisting on helping with the excavation. "What is it, Captain Celer?" He stood up to meet the Narnian soldier.

"Any word from your King, Sire?"

Hilio sighed and shook his head. "The guard brought no word when they arrived," He looked towards the Terebinthian soldiers and felt a fleeting stab of disgust.

The faun captain's shrewd eyes followed the young prince's focus. "They've dug almost twenty feet into the mine with no secondary collapses as of yet."

"May the Witch's children have a Witch's luck, eh?"

Celer allowed for a small smile. "Indeed."

"How long did it take the Dwarves at the Narnian collapse?" The dark-haired prince was covered in a fine layer of filth that accented the blue smudges under his eyes.

"Nearly three turns of the full moon, Your Majesty," Celer had kept a watchful eye on the young human since the prince had announced his intention to sleep in the shantytown near the mine, feeling more than a little protective of the young human. He was self-aware enough to admit a strange likeness between the foreign prince and his own kings. He had taken to telling the prince stories of his ancestral home and what it was reshaping into after a hundred years of tyranny.

Hilio nodded with his somewhat vacant glare on the insolent mine entrance. "Did they all survive?" It remained obstinately difficult to enter, seemingly no matter how many stones were removed.

Much like that of the young prince, Celer's heart was heavy these days. A heaviness that would not be shaken, but nor shared as though mere words were sufficient. "No, Sire," Thus he knew no words were needed and felt perhaps this was why he felt a kinship with the boy. The prince understood with startling clarity his sense of loss. His worry and his fear. "Not all of them," He returned his gaze to the mine and waited another minute before he rose.

The prince rose with him in unspoken agreement and together they rejoined the men who worked ceaselessly to clear a path. Celer knew they might continue to do so until they found who they were looking for. He only hoped he would find them unscathed and whole, as they were when he last saw them.

* * *

"Thank you, Captain," Susan with longing eyes on the eastern horizon as the captain of the _Dæios_ handed her a warm mug. The Galmian emissary ship carved through the waves like she was made to do, with barely a swell to show for it. The sun was setting against Susan's back and the faintest of stars began to twinkle just above the blue, eastern curve where ocean met sky. The ship was heading south east, from Galma's southernmost port.

In the vessels still anchored in Dawn were hundreds of Galmian envoys and soldiers, mixed with Narnian warriors of all size, color, and creed. In one of them was her brother, awaiting the message by Dove Susan sent to him.

 _"_ _Dear, Brother,"_ it said.

" _I will precede your arrival by two days and they shan't be expecting a Queen. No matter their explanation I will find a way to inform you of the particulars._

 _Tell Dame Utha, 'raichi'_."

She would await reply, if one ever came. Her brother had been in an unpredictable mood which was one of her reasons for so flagrantly disregarding his orders. Despite years of royal training her impulse would always be sororal as opposed to submissive. He would yell her ear off she was sure, his fear thrumming through him and causing an almost violent tension. Fortunately, she thought to herself with a smile, she was not alone.

From the space next to her Dahlia looked up through placid, diamond-eyes and offered a feline smirk. The Panther had refused to leave her Queen's side though Susan had initially insisted. Instead, summoning Costar in support of her argument, which had backfired horribly. The two Great Cats had convinced their Queen of the necessity of a guard, even when visiting allies. _Especially when visiting allies_ , Dahlia had amended, _against your brother's explicit command_.

Susan was glad of the company now, as she watched the _Dæios_ eat away the distance between herself and her siblings.

* * *

The parchment that contained a newly amended edition of Narnian legislation was twisted in between two anxious hands. The world had fallen away around the king in the days since his sons' disappearance and it was beginning to show. His wife had summoned him a few times. Tried. Hellon had ventured in to disturb him once or twice, but fled not to be seen after Baskar threw a pitcher at him.

Poor man, the king thought distantly.

Poor _kingdom_ to be encumbered by an addled, old man for a ruler. To lose the only ones that could succeed him. The king – _his_ _kingdom_ – had seen far too much of the Winter War. Far more than was recorded in history books. Far more than the king could ever speak of. Galma had been sieged by ice planes, stiffening their oceans. Marooning them on a cold and barren island for almost a century. For them the first spring had been a blessing.

For Terebinthia the War had been such, only disguised. For eons the old bloodline had ruled the island with impunity. Stemming from Narnian mainland and received by an ailing nation the Terebinthian bloodline had mounted a throne swiftly.

But the Ice had brought so much death. An uprising had been swift, following in the wake of an even swifter panic. Bloodlines had been severed down to the very smallest babe. Old families became new ones under false banners without distress or delay. No other nations knew, none had noticed. Galma, Bastian thought, suspected. But differences in temperament were apparent even _before_ the War. Galmians were legends of folk-songs. Men of myth, so closely linked to Narnian royalty or Archenland dukedom that they carried an aura about them. One of wisdom or power, Baskar was not sure. All Narnian royalty styled themselves in attributes visible only to a few.

Perhaps it was God. Aslan had risen to reclaim the throne with the children. _For_ the children. In his wisdom he had placed them above all else and now a nation – _many_ – followed his wise lead. Perhaps it was atonement. A slow death as antithesis to the swift one met by their previous monarchs.

But the turpentine trees had always grown wildly on Baskar's rock. _His_ throne had never been dwarfed by another's, until now it would appear. Those children had brought the aura with them. The praying houses had been filled since their arrival, now transformed into shelters with ailing mothers weeping for Baskar's lost sons and Narnia's lost sovereigns.

A shout down the hallway caught his attention.

The door had been closed for two days. Baskar had fared longer without food, but felt the loss of youth keenly through his fast.

What would the Narnians say?

A timid knock awoke him from his half-slumber. Before he could answer a head peeked inside. That of his youngest son. "Father," he whispered. "You summoned me."

Baskar stared at his son's visage in awe. The boy seemed to have aged in a matter of days. As though weighted down. Covered in filth and despair. Becoming wiry and hard to look at. "Boy?" he whispered back. His voice having waned from misuse.

He entered fully. Alone. _Hellon, that wretch is so scared of facing his king that he allows the boy to enter alone_. Baskar sneered and watched Hilio retreat cautiously. The door was closed, but he had one hand on the knob like a timid faun. "Where's your mother?" he asked, suddenly realizing how little he knew of how to address the boy. How long had it been since they'd spoken without one of his older sons present?

Hilio glanced at the door. "I don't know."

"Did she see you?"

He shook his head.

"Good. Don't let her," He studied the boy up and down. "She'll rip out my throat for allowing you to pass unchecked in such a wretched condition."

His boy looked down himself and pawed meekly at the front of his shirt like a commoner. Baskar sneered, but instantly froze in horror at the unwarranted surge of animosity. He turned back to his desk where a map of the island had replaced that of the Blue Mine. His hands automatically smoothed down non-existent wrinkles. "Why are you here?"

Had he turned he would've seen Hilio's confusion. His unease. "You summoned me," he said again and stepped closer. Forgetting himself for a moment in the face of his sequestered father. "Has Hellon told you of what's happening?"

"Hm? No," The king rotated in his chair.

"The mine is being cleared, but it will take at least a week to reach the depth we suspect they were at when it collapsed."

Baskar nodded and let his eyes drift. "What of the men?"

"Weary," Hilio granted. "But determined."

The king looked up again, this time taking the moment to watch more closely. "And you, boy?" he whispered.

Hilio frowned and faltered. "I…"

"How fare you?"

A quiver of sadness rushed over his face before he quickly averted it. "I'm fine, Father. Thank you for the guards… They're quite diligent."

Baskar scoffed at the spiteful note his son couldn't quite hide. "Well good," He made to push out of his seat, but spared his son one close look before doing so. "We'll find them, Hilio."

The young man looked him in the eye for what felt like the first time in years.

"I promise."

With a last searching look, he nodded and made to turn. "If you require nothing further?" He gestured outwards.

"Where will you go?" Baskar asked, feeling irrationally destitute.

"Back to Blue Mine."

The king swallowed down a surge of sadness and nodded. "Very well," he said in a harder voice. "Go find your brothers."

Hilio might have smiled when he bowed one last time, but Baskar had already turned his back.

* * *

Susan made landfall late in the evening. So late the sun was absent and stars were speckled merrily across the black heavens. Birds had gone to rest and a peaceful wind blew in over the serenely lit port of Eion. Smaller than Dawn, larger than Cair Paravel. Paved in cobble stone with thatched houses and mild-mannered folk who cast wary glances as the _Dæios_ slipped into place alongside an anchored fishing ship, directly in front of the harbor master offices.

An unerring sense of despondency began to draw at Susan's heart.

Lanterns were lit along the flophouses and taverns, but no music flowed out of the un-shuttered windows that Susan could hear. She looked to Captain Helios and saw her confusion reflected in his eyes. "There should be merriment, My Queen."

"Unless they're grieving," she finished. "Dahlia, Costar," The panthress and tiger slipped silently along behind her. "Stay in hiding until I say."

They nodded and seemed to almost melt into the shadows as Susan continued down the gangway, hidden by a midnight blue cloak, Helios by her side preceding her by half a step. He was a Galmian navy officer though he hardly looked the part with a worn, brown coat covering his evergreen uniform and scimitar. Narnian colors, Susan had noted, but Calormene weapons. The Galmians had taken to sovereign rule like starving children whilst the Terebinthians appeared, at first glance, less eager. She watched the streets as they climbed the terrain. Her delicate slippers had been replaced by warmer rigging boots, though neither were suited for walking longer distances.

They arrived at the gates of the Storm where Helios uncloaked with a flourish, as per the plan. He announced himself in the loud, posturing voice nobility so often perfected. The guards, who recognized him, floundered to open the doors. She saw one sprint ahead of them, presumably to announce their presence. She followed behind him with the hood of her cloak up and delicate hands gripping its edges to keep it there.

"Right this way, Officer," a page wafted them into an anteroom and promptly closed the doors.

Susan looked beyond the entrance, up to the raised thrones. Three, were there. Two were empty. One to the left of the king's seat was occupied by a lady. The one Susan assumed was Queen Hira of Eion. She drew her cloak tighter as Helios made his way closer, unmolested. There were more soldiers than the situation warranted, but it wasn't until she came closer that she understood why. In an alcove to the right of the thrones sat three ladies and three children of varying ages. Large copper basins were lit with whale oil and the ladies held their children and each other in suspense under the half-light.

They were frightened, Susan realized. Of Helios. Of Galma.

"Helios of the Royal Galmian Navy. What brings you to our doorstep?" The Queen asked in a clear voice. Not a trace of unease. Her hands were rested peacefully on either side of her seat and in her dark red gowns she looked the embodiment of royalty, Susan thought. Pale hair tied on the top of her head and serene, blue eyes watching her visitors keenly.

"My Queen, I seek an audience with the King," Helios replied with a low bow.

Susan looked down and wondered if Dahlia and Costar were watching her and waiting, but daren't turn to look. "The King is occupied. How may I assist you?"

Helios faltered and Susan placed a soft hand on his upper arm. He turned to her and retreated two steps to allow her an audience. "My Queen," Susan said as she drew back her hood. A shocked inhale echoed from the alcove where the ladies of court watched. Soldiers tensed. "I've come for news of my siblings."

The older queen watched her in momentary shock and gathered her hands over her stomach before she spoke. "I'm afraid he cannot help you in that respect, Queen Susan."

Susan drew the cloak away from her shoulders and stepped closer, noticing how the soldiers placed their hands on pommels throughout the room. "I come in peace, Queen Hira," she said with a pointed look at the armed guard. Assured Helios would die to defend her and rather loathing that idea. "I came out of concern, not just for my own but for yours as well. I hear your three oldest sons are trapped inside along with our youngest?" She looked up at the queen. Susan was now thoroughly bared and visible. Observable and readable, by any who so desired.

The queen made an aborted, little movement before she stilled. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," She started to shake her head. "I cannot-" She glanced at her ladies in waiting. "The King will see no one. Not even myself."

Susan softened as she felt a surge of pity for the woman, though the despondency thrummed on the edge of her mind. Hira was concerned as much as, if not more than, Susan. She sighed and looked down in thought. "Someone _needs_ to fetch him, Your Majesty," She looked the queen in the eye. "He cannot hide from this."

It was the very first time, she realized, that she was faced with someone to whom she should have bowed. It was neglectful of her to have forgotten. The queen was a sovereign ruler. And older than Susan. She should have consulted with Hira for the correct course of action, sought her advice, and not approached in such an underhanded manner. She should have shown respect, _but it's too late for that now_.

Now she had only that mystical reputation her Narnian countrymen had been so keen to foster. Four magical children of another world had halted an eternal Winter and summoned the Lord of All Things by their mere presence. Defeated a Witch the same way. It was hard not to be affected when such was your story.

The queen looked understandably unsure.

"Forgive me, Queen Hira, but my brother will not show the same leniency. We were under the impression our youngest were safe. You have children of your own. Surely you must understand the concern?" It occurred to her that all anger she had previously felt, intermixed with frustration and fear, dwindled at actually facing someone who might feel the same. The queen looked stalwart on the surface, but there was a brittle countenance that betrayed her exterior calm.

Susan wondered if Hira saw the same in her.

Helios was watching them both, Susan in unabashed adoration. She had seen it when she and her brother had arrived in Galma, on every new face they encountered. So much so that it had begun to weary her and that she had to forcefully remind herself to be respectful of their adoration. To be mindful. It grew dull over the long months since she'd ascended and it had steadily begun to fill her with a strange animosity. That same anger she had become so very adept at ignoring. "Majesty?"

The queen looked at her another moment in indecision before she looked to the ladies of court. They were the wives and children of the princes, Susan realized. "Very well, Queen Susan."

She stood in a awe-inspiring flow of blood red silk and descended the three steps from her seat. She stopped in front of the younger queen and stood half a head taller than her. She glanced at Helios. "Stay here, Captain."

Susan looked at him and nodded, casting a subtle look around for signs of two particular felines. It was already dawning on her how useful Animals were in such situations. More than once the surety that an ally watched over her had been enough to calm her. "Await my brother's arrival. Inform him where I've gone if I don't return to tell him myself."

Helios nodded.

She followed the queen deeper into the castle, down chalked halls, adorned with more copper basins and fluttering linens. Dark colors, to no doubt show that the keep was in mourning. She hoped Cair Paravel wouldn't have to follow their example. Sent a thought to Aslan and wondered if he could even hear her, though the doubt was eased a second later. He always heard before. Now would be no different, but she was beginning to understand Him better with each day. Not all actions that _should_ be taken, could.

She was learning.

The queen knocked on her husband's door and waved down the stationairy guards. "My Lord?" she called through the thick turpentine. "We have visitors, Baskar."

Seconds ticked by with inaction until Susan began to think the door would never open. Then suddenly it did. A harried-looking man peeked out only to look up and down the hall. "Is Hellon with you?"

"No, Sire."

"Who's this?" he muttered at Susan.

"This is Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia, My Lord," Susan and Hira watched the king's face drop and whiten. His countenance went from frazzled and paranoid to aimless and fearful. He retreated uncertainly and allowed the women entrance, closing the door very softly behind them.

"My Queen," he exhaled.

She nodded to him in greeting. "King Baskar."

"Wh-Why are you here, My Queen?" A quick glance at his wife.

He was the first to use her title possessively. Susan felt a flutter and knew it must've showed on her face. "I precede my brother who's on his way now," She glanced at Hira. "He comes with High Duke Ayel Maeon-Tal and a faction of the Galmian navy."

The king drew a deep breath through his mouth as his face paled further. "We have nothing," He raised his hands in impotence. "We have nothing to defend ourselves with."

She nodded. "I know. He comes out of fear. Concern for our youngest."

The king saddened notably.

"I hear there was a collapse. I had hoped to see the mine before my brother's arrival?"

The king had begun nodding as she spoke. "In the dead of night?" Susan nodded. "Well then... Yes. Certainly. It is but half a day's ride away, if that," He held out a hand for her, but hurried forward when she made to get the door. He opened it for both women and retook his position at the lead once out of the room. "Have someone saddle our mounts," the king called to no one in particular. Susan wondered if anyone was around to do his bidding, but the older queen seemed as determined as he.

The stationary guards followed two paces behind as two more hurried to precede the group of royals. Together they exited into an inner courtyard. The castle, or villa perhaps, was larger than initially thought. Two courtyards lay on either side of the keep which sat atop a small bailey. There were no moats, but the outer walls were thick and discouraging to potential intruders.

The Narnians could take it over the course of one night. "This way, Your Majesty."

Susan nodded when she spotted the flurry of activity around the stables despite the late hour. Apparently someone had heard. One of the young ladies stormed out of a door along the walls of the courtyard with determined steps. "Sire, I wish to accompany you," she said with more spitfire than Susan though appropriate, but the king merely nodded without slowing his pace.

"I will stay," Hira said and placed a hand on the young lady's shoulder. "Lady Llithus, this is High Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia."

Susan nodded and almost shot out a hand in greeting before she remembered herself. A sense of urgency beginning to take hold. The king had vanished inside the stables and was yelling at the boys before she had time to turn around. The four oldiers received four, nervous war mounts just as the king drew out two horses and a page drew the third for the lady.

Baskar held Susan's mount, a lovely Frisian, so Susan could climb up. No mention of a sidesaddle and but a hand of assistance as she mounted. She had ridden dressage saddles in Narnia, but nothing like the heavy stock saddles she now sat in. Two soldiers joined the other four as they launched into a brisk gallop, forming a loose circle around their three wards. They rode swiftly and without pause through the night. Had Susan been asked she could not have described the scenery, nor how many twists the path took on their way.

In her mind's eye a ghostly image of a collapsed mine replayed on a loop and all she felt was an unerring fear that there would be no one left inside to save.

* * *

TBC

 _A/N: The reference to 'raichi' is not from DBZ, but rather an old game called Tafl. I watched it played the other day and didn't understand a lick of it, but I thought it would make for a nice deviation from the chess I constantly force on Peter, Edmund and Lucy. So Susan and Dame Utha plays Tafl (which is not surprisingly also a strategy game).  
_

 _Also I have previously written a rather long story, told mostly from Susan's point of view. She has a_ _special place in my heart that one. Let me know if her behavior stirred anything in you?_


	12. The Celestine Halcyon

_A/N: I have this idea in my head of Narnians being really wonderful people, but not very good at being human, as in: there's a reason Aslan only puts humans on the throne of Cair Paravel. Now_ _ **why**_ _that is, can be debated, but I don't think it makes all these fairytale creatures less for not being fit rulers. If anything I think it makes them that much more beautiful. And on that note, my perception of Peter might vary slightly from yours (or even canon), but it's always seemed to me that the four siblings were given north, south, east, and west for a reason and that each region presents its own challenges for the person who rules it._

 _Disclaimer: Previous ones apply. I've added some geographical details to the different Narnian maps available online. I did it before with Lost Guardians, but I felt I should warn you that it is in fact not part of the greater Narnian universe. It's basically a grouping of small islands of the west coast of Terebinthia. Nothing major, but the alterations impact the storyline. Hope it isn't too intrusive._

 _Oh and Manon belongs to Elecktrum, but the High Duke is mine ;)_

* * *

Chapter 12: The _Celestine Halcyon_

Binya Drillosfill was the third of his name and the captain of the very first Narnian built ship in over a hundred years. His family had been architects, mines exclusively. His ancestors had built the sturdiest crossbeam constructions in all of Narnia and would have continued to do so had it not been for one morn, where Binya – a spry lad of only thirty – had ventured out of the Western Wild.

Towards the shore.

"Captain," a shipmate said and pointed up towards the glowing sun.

Binya followed his gesture and watched a mighty Albatross sail through the air with a straight heading past the isle to which they were moored. But it was suddenly not the Albatross that captured his interest, but rather a yellow, little blur next to it. A Lovebird darted out of the travelers slip stream and glided towards them with wild fluttering to keep its heading even. It dove and at the very last second corrected to land perfectly on the helm where Binya was waiting. Watching it with a strange apprehension. "Master Twittlebeak?" he asked, not having noticed its absence.

The Bird nodded and hopped to find a more suitable resting spot. Binya looked at it and glanced at his second mate. "Do you have something for me, Twittlebeak?" he asked softly. They were a ways from the harbor, but many small fishing vessels traveled the cove. And even then, busy waters now a days made Binya nervous.

"A word from His Majesty the Magnificent to his most trusted Captain."

Binya's eyes narrowed at the curious greeting. "What is the word?"

"Six, actually," Twittlebeak said and cleared his throat with a light, little trill of music. " _Narnia is coming. Mind the shore_."

Binya's eyes shot out towards the open waters where the sun caught the waves on its afternoon course towards the horizon. The ocean appeared still. Calm. But if the king was marching he knew it would not stay so for long. "How many?"

"I'm sorry, Captain. That was the only message I was given."

The Dwarf nodded and turned to look at the island next. Celer and his men were still on it; in the mines, was the last word. The _Dæios_ was anchored by the harbor and his queen was somewhere in-land. His second mate approached discretely. Most of the crew was performing menial tasks on deck to keep busy. Binya had ordered a few of them off ship to buy provisions, but many longed to take some sort of action. "Méssida," he said in greeting to the fair maiden. "How much did you hear?"

Méssida offered a quick smile, her inherent joviality too hard to shake. "Very little, Captain."

But Binya had never trusted a Narnian more. Nor had he ever been quite as obliviously in love as the day he first saw the beautiful dawn-nymph on the deck of the _Ouranios_. The ship's third mate was Duruksa, peculiarly enough a night-nymph, born of the first autumn frost whereas Méssida had been born by the mists that lingered over marshes and fields just before sunrise. Both were old and it unnerved Binya that neither could say precisely _how_ old. Neither seemed to not care, as was the case with most nymphs, naiads, sprites, and dryads. The way of many ethereal creatures of his fair Narnia. "The King is sailing here," he muttered with a look around deck.

Her eyes shifted to unerringly focus on his brown eyes that hid under bushy, strawberry eyebrows. "Did he say when?"

"No, but if the King marches on anything not Ettin-made he does not do so lightly."

She nodded in agreement. "Does he send instructions?"

"To 'mind the shore'."

She frowned. Delicately, as she did all else. "What does that mean?"

Binya sighed. "He wants to know their strength, would be my guess."

"He wants us to venture into Eion to spy?" She seemed neither in agreement, nor in opposition to it.

Binya growled with his eyes on the sun lit harbor. " _I_ would want us to if it were my brother and sister, stuck on foreign ground," He looked the tall lady in the eye. "How well do you know the island?"

She looked to shore a moment. "I've been here before," she said with a faraway expression. "But that was inland, I believe," A frown crossed her delicate features. "It's difficult to remember sometimes," Her voice echoed in the wind around her.

"It's alright," He understood the nature of his fair Narnia keenly. Understood the strength of the land and of its creatures. Understood that their strengths were often the very weaknesses that made governing difficult. Independent and beautiful made for poor rule in a world populated by humans. And neither Dwarf, nor nymph had ever had much in the way of an ambition to lead. "Could you walk among them and find out?"

"The mood in the air?" she asked, eyes now zeroed in on the people milling about the promenade. Her eyesight far exceeding his.

"Yes. Get a sense of it?"

She looked directly to him and nodded. "Duruksa takes second in my absence."

"Of course," Binya nodded and inhaled deeply when she, without delay, faded into thin air. Officer's robe falling to the ground, empty. Her form faded into a mere flicker of light or burst of seafoam as she glided across the waters on her way into the city.

Binya watched and worried a ringlet in his beard. He worried what she would learn, but worried more at what she _wouldn't_.

* * *

"The _Glass Glider_ was once the fastest ship in the Silver Seas," High Duke Ayel Maeon-Tal said in a distinctly regretful tone even as his hands caressed the deck of the _Celestine Halcyon_. His eyes were on the horizon, but he glanced back quickly at his captain. "Captain Uthar does his aunt proud."

Peter snapped out of his internal dialogue to do a double take. "I was under the impression he was her son."

The older man looked him in the eye, for the first time with something other than awe. "His father was killed during a rebellion, his lands burned down. Uthar took Dame Utha's his name when she adopted him. To show familial loyalty."

Peter nodded and stored it away. Narnia had proved remarkably different in many ways, but it was the most subtle differences that always caught him off guard. "She had no children of her own."

"No. Damn shame too, I'll have no one when I no longer have _her_."

The high duke seemed honestly upset and Peter didn't blame him. The navigation instructor and former navigator, Dame Utha, had served her later years out in Ayel's high council. A position that had fortunately brought her to Narnia several times over the past three years. Peter had felt a fondness for the lady since their first meeting and true to form Edmund had emulated him instantly. His reminiscent smile faded at the thought of his brother.

Perhaps the duke was trapped in similar thoughts because his next words were as insightful as they were inflammatory. "Five warships follow us, King Peter. Your Narnians and our ships are together, unstoppable objects. We'll see how immovable the Storm is then."

Peter felt a sinking sensation. "I pray it won't be necessary-"

"Sire!" a shipmate called suddenly. He ran over with a missive. "Cap'n just received this, Sire. One of the pigeons returned from an Archenland outpost near the Great Desert," He handed over the missive to his lord who opened it without delay. His blue eyes sped over what few words were written and an expression of horror quickly overtook his features.

"What does it say?" Peter asked and leaned closer. It had been at least two days underway.

"You're dismissed," the duke told the boy before he addressed his king. "Your Majesty…" he faltered.

"What?" Cold fear halted Peter's breath.

"A force of seven ships has departed Zalindreh. They sail north."

The words were caught by the haze Peter had been suspended in since Twittlebeak arrived and he frowned. "What?" The repercussions momentarily lost on him.

"The Zalindreh harbormaster is an army general by the name of Luz Tarkaan, the Tisroc's-"

"The Tisroc's fourth son. Yes I know," Peter faced the ocean and gripped the railing, feeling pliant wood dig under his unkempt nails. "Damn," he growled. "He wouldn't launch _one_ ship for anything less than war, let alone _seven_."

"I fear you are correct."

" _Damn_ ," Peter said again. "Have you heard _anything_ from the Tisroc?" Ayel shook his head. Peter suddenly regretted his less than stellar relationship with the ruler of Calormen. The country was vast. Filled with soldiers willing to die for their king. Susan had always had better dealings with them, not in small part because of the way they stared at her whenever she was near. Peter's teeth ground together. He didn't know who was more despicable, the Tisroc or his sons. There were just _so_ many to choose from. He took a deep breath through his nose and released the railing. "Apologies."

Ayel shook his head again, but averted his eyes. "No need, Sire."

"So what does this mean?" He made an aborted move to start pacing. "You've heard nothing from the Tisroc, _I_ 've heard nothing. Have you written King Lune?"

"I will the second we finish our conversation," he assured.

"Good. Ask him to write His-Majesty-the- _Benevolent_ Shehyzan and to ask if the king is aware that his son is acting against signed peace treaties."

"I feel I should remind Your Majesty that nothing has yet been confirmed-"

"I know, but I _want_ him on the defensive," Peter growled. He had felt an initial urge to challenge the Tisroc on every disagreement the moment he met him and it wasn't until Susan made an observation that Peter finally began using his brain. _He's ill, Peter_. He remembered her words so clearly, muttered as she had been in the midst of some other task. _There's something…not quite right_. He hadn't seen it, no one apparently had. But his sister took one look and one night to think on it before it unfolded for her.

A stunted conversation with Oreius had confirmed his chosen _modus operandi_ for all future dealings with the Tisroc. _Peter wanted him unsettled_. He _wanted_ him subjective and plagued by his own paranoia over Narnia, especially with his sister nearby to sooth their concerns. He wasn't sure how much Edmund knew, but the young king was wiser than his years and sometimes he had a look in those brown eyes that spoke of frightening levels of understanding.

"We have no _time_ to deal with this now."

"What if he sails on word of another?" Ayel suggested.

"Who?" Peter turned to him fully. The duke stalled a mere moment, but the look in his eyes awoke something dark in the high king. "King Baskar," The Terebinthian king was an unknown element on an otherwise very crowded board.

"He has the power to persuade the Tisroc into action, but perhaps he went around Shehyzan and came directly to Luz or Bismillah Ezo. No one can say," Ayel elaborated.

Peter's jaw ground shut and electric, blue eyes turned back to the ocean. "And my sister is there."

"Yes," Ayel whispered. The quaffed and combed man had changed a great deal since his first arrival to the Narnian shores. Still elegant and fanciful compared to their burlier Archenland cousins, less ethereal than a true Narnian, but more human the longer Peter knew him. Less Lord, more Man.

He looked him in the eye as a new idea took hold. He didn't have to wait for the _Halcyon_ to reach Eion or for pigeons to reach various outposts across the nations. "Go write your letter, My Lord."

Ayel looked unsettled by the sudden calm that rolled over his high king, but he nodded and vanished with but a wary glace back. Peter caught his general's eye across the deck and summoned him with a nod. Oreius was uneasy on anything that wasn't solid ground, but had taken to the ceaseless movements of the ship with a stalwart persistence. The Centaur leaned closer to his king, having no doubt watched the conversation since it began.

"Send word to Tarvi. I want Manon and Otonoca to bring their troops to the Skjalbard Islet," Oreius nodded and vanished just as quickly as he'd come, summoning a Bird. Peter returned his attention to the frothing seas, feeling like he was reclaiming an iota of control. If politics was a game then he would lose, but if he stopped playing their game altogether there was no limit to what could happen.

* * *

Susan stared up at the great mine where excavations had been ongoing for little more than a week. Shifts working day and night to try and exhume the buried royals. Night was lit by torches and fires and wherever they burned, blackness, darker than night, was held at bay.

Since her coronation Susan had felt stirrings of the sort that were never openly discussed. Much like her siblings, she felt as though she had been given something by Aslan. No mere trinket and unlike any tangible weapon; no something far more powerful.

Whereas Lucy woke from vivid, sometimes frightening dreams, Susan would sometimes feel a different stirring. When the dust settled in a still room and light caught it in the long hours of afternoon. It happened in solitary moments, so softly that she hardly noticed at first. A book was needed or a person located and she would _know_. Susan had always been curious about the world. She had always been tenacious.

It made sense to her that Aslan had given them each a Gift that would only increase their natural inclinations. _She_ had come to value curiosity and had come to rely on it to grow and flourish in a home not her own. To use it when befriending unlikely allies.

"We've gained three feet of clearance since yesterday morning," Captain Celer explained quietly. "They're making better progress than expected, My Queen," he continued close to her ear in a hopeful tone.

She glanced at him, but quickly back at the mine before she nodded. "Celer, do you ever get the sense that someone is watching you?" she asked too low for the others to hear. Her eyes drifted to King Baskar who was speaking with his son, one hand on the young man's shoulder.

The Faun looked taken aback, but eventually shook his head.

She swallowed against a feeling she couldn't name. "I feel as though someone is waiting for me to act, but fear of failure keeps me from doing so," she admitted in a whisper before she suddenly caught herself and brushed the discomfort away with a smile. "Sorry."

Celer watched her with a soft expression in his eyes for a beat before he spoke. "Think nothing of it, Your Majesty."

"As you can see we've made progress," King Baskar announced as he and his son suddenly appeared. Lady Llithus close behind. He paused when he sensed he had interrupted something, but powered through. "We gain closer to the caves every moment," he addressed Susan more directly.

Her attention snagged. "What caves?" She glanced at Celer who wore an odd expression.

The King glanced at his youngest son before he spoke. "The collapse was believed to be localized to the mine only and an offshoot sprouts off into a cavernous system."

"How deep in?"

"They punched through a cave wall about fifty feet inside when they first began mining," Hilio answered. He glanced at his father, but the King looked to his son to continue. "But…" Hilio looked to his father again, but the man only frowned. "There's been incidents."

"Aslan…" Baskar moaned and closed his eyes instantly. He turned away and swiped a hand down his face.

"What?" Susan asked, blue eyes digging into Hilio's own.

"Three men have died."

A flicker of unease washed over Celer's face closely followed by confusion.

"How?" Susan asked, taking a step closer. There was something just beyond her reach. Something _black_.

"One man was crushed by a falling stone," Hilio glanced again to his father, but the man had his back turned. Lady Llithus was similarly unresponsive, only staring at her brother in law with a strange mix of disgust and compassion. "Two died of internal damage."

"From stones?" Susan asked. It slithered from her dreams, that _ill_ feeling. Something too hideous to consider wormed its way closer and closer. Right to the forefront of her mind.

"No, Your Majesty. They died from internal bleeding."

Susan's eyes bored into Hilio and Baskar with increasing frustration. "From _what_?" It was there, _just there_ , so close she could almost _taste_ it.

"We call them ash vines, Your Majesty," Hilio answered in a hoarse voice, guilty expression on his face.

Her stomach bottomed out. A faint and all but forgotten scream echoed like the memory of a dream. "Ash vines..."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

She looked to Celer. "Did you know of this?"

The Faun shook his head, a perturbed expression settling on his face and a hand reaching for the blade at his hip. " _Plants_ killed them?"

"Yes."

"And where do they come from?"

"From the mine, Your Majesty."

Susan's breath stuttered and a hand went to her chest. Beside her Celer reacted much the same way, only gripping his pommel tighter. "Did you know of this?" she asked the Faun though she suspected the answer.

He shook his head, not shocked by the question.

Susan turned to Baskar. "Did you send them in there knowing what could happen?"

"We had no way of predicting a collapse-"

"That's not what I'm _asking_!" she barked, an unrivalled fury swelling in her chest. "Did you knowingly send the two youngest rulers of Narnia into an unsafe mine?" Her voice hardened with each word and she felt Celer coil tight beside her. Saw his men drawing closer in response to their queen's raised voice.

"Yes," Baskar admitted.

Her world collapsed when something shifted in her chest. It was in there. Waiting for them. "Has it grown since the collapse?" Her voice, suddenly washed and faint, prompted confusion on the king's face.

He looked to his son. "Yes," Hilio answered. "Each night it crawls out through the cracks like a living thing. The fires impede it, but…" Unshed tears filled his eyes as he spoke and she realized he _knew_. He had the thought himself no doubt.

"It never grew like this before," she guessed.

The Prince shook his head. "We've salted the earth for fifty years. The mine entrance and every tunnel built is salted."

King Baskar took over. "The vines have only ever grown in the cave systems," he said, near desperation.

Her breath bellowed out of her as a tear dripped down her face, but she felt it so clearly now. She knew what she wanted, had known it since her siblings left home. She wanted them back like an anxious parent. Not an omen or unsettled feeling had passed her mind; purely the loss of them leaving. She had wanted them back and with a horrifying drop she felt that loss settle.

Susan had always been good at finding what she wanted. She had always been good at _knowing_ what she wanted and the consequences thereof.

But it was in that moment she realized her _want_ would bring destruction upon every living creature in sight and countless more beyond it. The Black Death would bloom, slick and horrifying across the soft mulch that covered the island. It would swallow Terebinthia whole until it met salt water. There it would wait until one day a ship set shore on an abandoned, barren beach and someone would carry it out. _Someone_ , it mattered not who or why, would _touch_ , or _bleed_ , or eat of a spoilt fruit and they would carry that black, slithering death with them to every corner of the world.

 _From there on it will have no boundaries_ , Aslan whispered almost as though He was standing right beside her.

"Where does it come from?" she asked in the silence that had been brought on by the King's confession.

"The caves, that's all we know," he said quickly.

She looked down as a new need bloomed in her chest. Something that might eclipse the horrible void this discovery had created. "I need to visit your Statue," All had one, grand or small. No matter how well it resembled a Lion, a Crow or something else, all had one. Places of sanctuary or worship. It hardly mattered, she had realized. The nymphs of Dancing Lawn had a sacred ash tree they prayed to. Calormenes had giant temples full of gold and silver. Archenland had granite domes that fostered tranquility to reflect in. Each nation their own, but each emissary alike, offering one thing in the face of fear: Comfort.

"Certainly," the King acquiesced and held out a hand to lead her back.

Hilio stayed behind with the lady Llithus as a meek Baskar returned with Susan. Half her Narnian guard followed as well, those fleet of foot, though Celer remained to with help the excavation.

Upon entering the keep Susan was escorted to the idol by a young girl. It was in the greeting courtyard, she discovered, in a vaulted pavilion full of forget-me-nots by a quiet corner. A marble Lion was perched, smaller than the creature after which it was styled, but no less regal. She excused the girl and waited until she was certain she was alone before she kneeled by the entrance to the pavilion.

Aslan had spent one night after their coronation, telling the four of them stories of their new home. They had sat on the floor with him then as well, all night, and had fallen asleep against his warm, soft belly.

"Aslan," she whispered and sighed. "Hello," she said almost as an afterthought. She imagined him smiling at that. Smiled herself. "I think I understand half of it," she continued, smile falling. "…but it's the other half that scares me," Fear had taken hold inside her and for the first time since she had left her brother she allowed it free reign. Tears burned as they left her eyes and fled down her cheeks. "If we don't hurry my siblings will die alone in the dark," she whispered. Her breath stuttered and more tears rolled down her cheeks. "If we continue everything will-"

A flash of a thunderous sky over a cold, black rock shot through her mind. A sob forced its way up her throat.

"How do I make that decision?" she wept. "No sibling could make that decision," she cried and took five deep breaths. Her fear still roiled under her skin and created unfocused energy that had no escape. Her hands began to shake. "I wish-" She cut herself off with another look at the statue. It had not moved, nor changed. The air had not shimmered with the kind of magic she had seen him display. It sat still like the stone it was cut from, as Hira had upon Susan's arrival. Still and silent. It was so unlike Him, she remembered. Even when He had slept there had always been deep breaths or an occasional purr to signify life.

But the statue looked as petrified as any other. It was depicted to show respect, portraying the Lion with a regal expression. Almost sad-

She looked closer. A saddened king. A _burdened_ king. Not joyful or happy, but weighted by the responsibility of choice. Each one eliminated another. She drew a sudden, deep breath as an idea, born of that previously-felt-but-never-named desire took hold and bloomed bright and clear. She stood from the floor, staring at the statue. Suddenly understanding. Her breath was light and fast. Anxious. Her fingers cold as she, with a summoning of courage, nodded and whispered, "Alright."

Then turned and left.

* * *

On a branch in the willow tree by the pavillion sat a little Sparrow in all his plumage. He had watched quietly as was his assignment until the queen turned from her prostration and looked straight at the Bird. She nodded only once and vanished inside once more.

Bluebell took a moment to counter his surprise at the sudden dismissal, but felt he knew his queen's intention, having been her first line of defense for almost four years now. Quite long for a little creature such as he.

She wanted her brother to know what she had spoken with Aslan about. Well, His likeness in marble, but _still_. The Lion heard all who called even though He didn't always answer in a way that made sense. And so Bluebell alighted from his branch and fluttered towards the harbor where he knew the _Ouranios_ lay anchored. Past the _Dæion_ that had been moored just off the coast. Towards a flutter of mighty wings against the horizon where five fabled creatures were already approaching the isle of Terebinthia. Bluebell would meet them there to wait for the king.

Yes. That would buy Queen Susan the time she needed.

* * *

"Titus," Susan called to Celer's next in command. He jumped on hoofed legs and made a clatter against the stone floor when he rushed to meet her. She held out a small roll of parchment. "I need you to take this to Prince Hilio," He took the letter with a bow. "It's urgent."

As he left she felt a remnant of fear, but fought against it. Her brother would hate her for it. Her people would hate her for it, but she knew – she _believed_ – with every ounce of her being that Aslan would not fail if she did not.

In the coming dawn that was what she clung to. Hope of forgiveness for the order she had just given.

* * *

Black vines bloomed in the night and women would come in with buckets of poisonous water or hartshorn powder. The vines would hiss and quiver in retreat, but every night they reemerged. Each night they had to use more poison and start earlier to discourage them. Men were getting careless as they worked, but it only took one nick to remind everyone of the danger of their labor.

Hilio had worked since his father's departure and was startled in the early hours of day, after those shrewd plants had begun to retreat for the day, when a voice quite suddenly called him out among the men. Instantly the Narnians, who worked close by him, stopped and closed in on the new arrival. "Titus?"

He was panting as though he had run himself ragged, as truly he would have. "Sire, I bear an urgent letter from the Queen," He handed over the small roll of parchment to Hilio's great confusion. It was a little wrinkled and dappled with sweat, but he was little better himself.

"My mother?"

"Queen Susan," the Faun explained.

Hilio wasted no time unwrapping and reading it. As he did his heart felt aflutter with fear and a sense of dread rolled over him. "Have you read this?" he asked the Faun in shock.

"No, Your Majesty."

He looked back down to the letter and read it again, then a third time.

"What does it say, Prince Hilio?" Celer asked, his compatriots now close by in a loose circle.

Hilio looked up and took in Titus' flummoxed state of being. Then looked to Celer. "This cannot be from her," He gestured with the letter, but made no move to relinquish it.

"Sire," Celer drew closer, all confusion now gone from his face, replaced with a new, unwavering expression. "Tell me what it says."

Hilio's chest seized with grief and he wondered for a moment why she had written _him_ and not her soldiers, _wished_ she would have written them. "It says to seal the mine," he whispered.

"What?" Titus asked aghast whilst Celer paled and fell completely still. "She cannot-"

" _Silence_!" the captain barked at his officer. " _She_ can do whatever she _wants_ , for she is _Queen_ ," A few faces angled their way, but none lingered. "Furthermore she is not acting any less than the royal we all know her to be," He approached Hilio with a frightfully intense expression. "Give me the letter, Sire," He held out his hand.

Hilio looked from Titus to Celer before he handed it over for the Faun to read for himself. "It is true. She orders the Prince to burn the entrance and then collapse the mine."

More gasps echoed through the closely huddled Narnians, but Celer felt any conflict he'd had up until then wither away. He had been given a direct order from his Queen and intended to honor her. Honor his descendants _and_ hers. "The plants are flammable, yes?" he asked in a slow, calculating voice.

The Prince nodded.

"Will you carry out this order, Prince?" he then asked. As fearsome as anyone Hilio had ever seen despite his lacking height and that kindhearted expression all Fauns inherently wore.

He inhaled deeply and considered her request for all its facets. He had seen it on her before she left, he realized. Had seen the sorrow in her eyes then and knew it must have broken her heart to give the order. "To the best of my ability," he whispered and received the letter back.

"And we will assist where your abilities fall short. Burn it," Celer ordered briskly. "Titus," he called, but then softened. "Do you understand?" he asked the second in command in a lower voice. "Is this not a sacrifice worthy of... _immortality_?"

Titus' face saddened as he took in the words and the Faun then seemed to collapse upon himself.

"Speak the words," Celer demanded.

"Yes," Titus whispered, then looked his commander in the eye. "Yes."

The captain nodded. "Good. Call out the workers," he ordered the Prince.

Hilio nodded, though his eyes were far away.

"Go. _Now_."

Hilio spun on his heel and began issuing orders for workers to stop and return to their temporary homes, calling to people quietly, but failing to not stir alarm. Many took in the his rattled appearance and began muttering amongst themselves as they gathered in front of the mine.

None left and at the sight of them all gathered, questioning, but trusting, Celer's heart broke.

He swallowed against a wave of sorrow so profound only death - or perhaps Aslan - would release him and picked up a torch from a nearby fire. The Prince exited with a group of fifty men and saw the Faun approaching. People were now gathered and a low hum began to spread. Workers who dragged rubble clear of the roads stopped and came to watch.

"Captain?"

"Is that the last of them?" Celer interrupted the noble, uncaring of convention or appropriate respect in the face of what he was about to do.

Hilio nodded and turned around himself to watch the captain as he approached the open mine. Someone yelled out from the crowd when the torch drew nearer the earthly darkness, but the Narnian soldiers held them back. Hilio watched with his breath catching on every other inhale as Celer vanished, the light of his torch next.

All stopped talking and fell quiet.

Then a flash. A _boom_ , almost like the collapse itself, and the Faun sprinted back out with a tail of dust and smoke before an even louder _boom_ echoed from deep within. Then the earth began to tremble. Stones began to rattle loose and click against each other. Bigger ones began to follow with mighty sounds of heavy objects colliding into each other. Each grinding noise or crunch reverberated within the chests of those gathered and was echoed in their collective gasps.

In the rising roar the very front of the mine, at the very top, crumbled like a delicate crust. Instantly followed by wave after wave of soil. Stone upon stone until the mine they had all worked so tirelessly to clear was once again collapsed upon itself. In a fraction of the time they had spent opening it.

Hilio looked around and saw expressions of horro, but felt none of it himself. After all, he was the man who had very likely doomed his three older brothers to a slow, suffocating death somewhere inside that Hell.

But then, as more and more in the gathered crowds caught his eye, their horror turned to anger. His numbness to fear.

* * *

TBC

A/N: Oh NO they didn't!


	13. An Empty Fortress on a Lonely Mountain

_A/N: I am SO sorry for the long wait! - School snuck up on me for a hot second and I became dreadfully focused there just for a little bit, but rest assured. All that nasty concentration has gone away now. 2.0 and fully distracted. Who really needs a master's degree anyway? Amirite?  
_

 _Disc: Dravigont belongs to elecktrum, but the name is just so badass, plus I have sinister plans for that Gryphon, so I'm dropping it here as a gentle precursor to future stories. :o And my 'R' button's somewhat stuck so if any r's go missing that's not my fault either :)  
_

* * *

Chapter 13: An Empty Fortress on a Lonely Mountain

The vista was magnificent. Edmund had a clean view of the city to the west. The direction of the setting sun. The cooling air. The mine was behind him. Sounds of labor from the men, working. He had helped move the lightest stones from the top of the collapsed mine entrance, but his hands had begun to show reoccurring signs of blisters. He worked for a few hours until Prince Escar ordered a shift. He stopped without comment and ignored Lucy's forlorn expression. There was no more salve and the beasts had barely had enough fat to feed a bird, let alone siphon some off for more.

They had feasted, or rather gorged, on the slaughtered dog. It could have tasted horrible, but all were too starving to realize and had eaten with in silence like the desperate wretches they were. At that moment he found himself sitting on the very edge of one of the nearby buildings, covered in dust and licking his lips in thirst despite the plant- _slime_ he had consumed with his meal. It wouldn't be enough to sustain them through the task of reopening the mine. Not for the long run.

The second, long morning in the white city had dragged on with long periods of productivity, interrupted by brief busts of quiet desperation. The mine entrance was still barred, but every crevasse where ash vines could crawl forth in the dark had been marked or blocked. A focused silence had settled and dulled conversation to a minimum. One of the soldiers had gained bleeding blisters on his hands and everyone ignored them, including said had barely felt a thing when he noticed and moreover, his troubles felt almost absent in that moment. He had a perfect view of the city and it was enough.

Lucy snuck up next to him with nary a sound. "This could be unstable," she said blithely about the wall, but sat down anyway.

His hands trailed along the dry stone, but his eyes didn't waver from the vista. "How are you doing?" he asked instead, turning to glance at her.

She sighed and rubbed her small hands. "I'm tired," They were flushed, he noticed and looked a bit more closely.

His eyes softened at her tone and he snuck an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. Reached down to grab one of her hands and blow on it.

She sighed and fell into his embrace. "Do you ever get lonely, Edmund?"

He frowned, though all his focus went to the hand that was soothingly rubbing her shoulder. "What do you mean?" he whispered.

She shrugged a bit half-heartedly. "Well… Do you ever feel like you want someone to talk to, but don't know what to say?" She turned to look at him.

He glanced down at his own knees and picked at a long, loose thread. "Sometimes," Then looked at her again. "Do you?"

She shrugged. "No, but I'm good at talking," She smiled and made him smile as well. "You're not always good at talking."

He scoffed, but it didn't have the energy it should have. "I'm a royal diplomat, Lu. I talk for a living."

She scoffed as well with a bit more enthusiasm. "Yes, but you hardly ever talk to us."

Her comment wiped any trace of humor and he turned to look closely into her eyes.

She bit her lip and continued. "Susan and I talk all the time. And Peter talks to Susan about things he doesn't know how to fix," She turned to look at the view, but Edmund stayed focused on her. "They think I don't hear them, but I do," she said with a note of pride.

Edmund felt a weak smile press to be released.

"And I talk to you a lot, but you never really talk to me," She looked at him again. "And even despite that I sometimes get lonely," She said morosely. "So."

"So?" he asked in a weak voice, floored by the love he felt for her in that moment. In the warm sun.

"Do you ever feel lonely?" she restated and looked him in the eye.

"I guess," he muttered. He often took issue looking someone in the eye for too long, but never with Lucy, he realized. Not for at least two years and certainly not since coming here. A little smile bubbled to life. "You know you can tell me whenever you feel lonely, don't you?"

"Yes, I suppose," she allowed. "You know you can do the same?"

He turned back to the view and smiled fully. "I suppose."

* * *

Susan began shaking when dawn gave way to day. A bleak desolation consumed her. She was perched in the alcove where she had first seen the ladies of the court, but was alone save for Helios. A an she hardly knew. The Galmian Force officer was perched on the very tip of a settee with a hand on his weapon and his eyes affixed on nothing. She had explained herself to him in a moment of weakness, but had justified it with a desire for someone else – anyone else – to know. To understand.

Her thoughts spun around her brother's reaction when he learnt what she had done and fear welled up inside her. She rose in a fluent motion when a clapping of hooves filled the throne room, standing to see her soldiers return. The King and Queen were perched on their thrones, expecting Susan's brother. What they received were a troop of seven Narnians and their youngest son. All looking beyond haggard.

Everyone of them sported wounds, bumps and bruises, even one or two long red, blotches where armor and skin had been pierced. Weary and covered in filth, Celer particularly. His tawny fur was covered in soot and singed off in some places. On his face was an expression of complete hoplessness and she felt a crushing guilt at the thought that was responsible for it, intuitively understanding the events that had happened. Hilio had a bleeding gash on his forehead, a dark, ugly bruise forming on his chin and a darker expression in his eyes. Susan's breath stalled and she waited to catch her soldiers' eyes. Anyone of them, to see if she still had a friend left in the world.

When Hilio offered a perfunctory bow to his parents the entire troop of Narnian soldiers turned to face Susan and bowed as one. Her breath whooshed out of her chest at the display. Straightening one by one she caught their eyes and found heartbreak. Grief. Guilt rolled wildly through her body as she searched for signs of anger, but found none. Her breath billowed out of her in a squeak and she felt as though she deflated, tears rushing to her eyes and overflowing down her cheeks. Once. Twice. Helios approached with a concerned expression and placed a hand on her back, but remained silent. She was shaking. Low tremors rushing over her skin.

"Your Majesty?" Queen Hira asked her, delicate frown in between her brows, eyes darting from her injured son to the Queen at her strange reaction.

"Mother," Hilio said instead, calling her attention back to him. "Fath- Father," His voice broke as he said it and the King paled, making a move to abandon his seat in obvious concern for his youngest.

"What is it, my son?" his voice was softer than Susan thought him capable of.

Two errant tears dripped from Hilio's eyes and his breath shuddered, lip quivering in upset. "I'm so s-sorry," he stuttered. Arms by his side, awaiting any kind of retribution his parents would dole out. He took a deep breath through his nose and hardened his expression, refuted by the single tear that ran down his cheek, and looked away from his parents. "I did som-" His voice was barely audible and Susan's hand went to her mouth as she watched him swallow and try again. "Very early this morning I took it upon myself to secure our people. B- By collapsing the Blue Mine-"

He was stopped by a gasp from Hira that morphed into a disbelieving 'no'. A low murmur erupted among the soldies on guard.

"I-I," he stuttered as more cruel tears rolled down his cheeks and he attempted to stay composed. "I understand the consequences of m-my actions and take full responsibility-"

"It was my decision," Susan interrupted with a jolt. Baskar's eyes widened in disbelief, but stayed fixed on his son. Still processing the Prince's words. Faced with Hilio's blatant fear she felt her own rise along with something else, something more resilient. "I made a decision upon consulting with Aslan-"

Baskar let out a manic laugh, still fixed on Hilio. Hira let out a low moan and closed her eyes.

"…to seal the mine to spare your people more pain."

The King's wide, wounded eyes overflowed with disbelieving tears. _Then_ he turned to Susan. " _More pain_?" His voice quivered as he looked at her. Hira had averted her face to the floor and gone completely still in her seat, chest heaving for breath. "Do you not think it _pains_ my people to lose their _royal family_!" he roared and rose from his chair in a menacing crouch.

Fear ran rampant through Susan, but she squashed it and fisted her hands into her dress. Heard Helios make to draw his sword. She watched the King closely as he turned back to his youngest son. "What have you done _,_ " he roared furiously and descended the steps in a blur of movement. In a manic lunge he grabbed Hilio by the shoulders and shook him so violently the two fought to remain standing, but the Prince allowed it.

The young man only let loose a single sob, but otherwise kept himself from flinching in the face of his father's anger. Susan, and the Narnians as well, made an aborted move to intervene, but none did as the King began weeping bitterly. "What have you _done_!" he bellowed again.

Hilio curled in on himself, the very embodiment of shame, his father inches away from his face. A savage sound burst out of the King and he fell to his knees, hands slipping off Hilio's quivering shoulders, instead gripping the front of his shirt. The young man wrecked by tears as he shook.

Susan watched them, unsure of how to progress, with tears in her own eyes. Guilt and sadness vyed for attention. Celer and his men seemed the same, stuck in their own indecision. Then, with a clearing of her throat, Queen Hira rose, as composed as Susan had come to expect. "My King," she said softly, her voice thick with grief. Unshed tears in her eyes. She stepped down from the throne, looking solely at Baskar who was still kneeled in front of his son. She placed a hand on his shoulder and nudged him around so he could latch onto her instead, remaining firm whist her husband collapsed.

She looked to Hellon who had been perched by the side of the throne room, stunned by his Prince's announcement. "Counselor, take my husband to his chambers," Her eyes were drying even as she spoke and a hardened shell sank over every inch of her.

Hellon took a few attempts to start, but then slowly walked up and urged the King to his feet. Sending Hilio a quick glance full of despair. "Sire," he whispered to the ailing king. "Sire, please."

Baskar was pulled to his feet through combined efforts of his wife and first counselor, and assisted out of the room. Hira's hand lingering on his shoulder before he was moved out of reach. She watched her husband until he had left the room, only then turning to Susan. Still not casting a single glance at her son. "Your Majesty."

Susan nearly flinched at her address.

"I believe I understand your reasoning, but I-" Her voice quivered as eyes fell and darted along the floor towards Hilio, but not quite looking at him. Her hands smoothed her gown. The young Prince looked more like a little boy as he stood there shaking with the unfulfilled need for support. "I hope you will excuse me," she finshed and left without a backward glance. A hand rested briefly on the door sill on her way out and for a moment Susan almost thought she would turn.

She didn't.

As she exited Susan's tension did not fall, but rather rose as she looked at the Prince. As his mother vanished so did the last of his composure. Sorrow wrought his face into a grimace, regardless of the guards watching, and wretched sobs clawed their way out of his chest as he sank to his knees. Her own eyes overflowed with tears as the reality of what they had done struck her and she rushed to his side. Initially placing a hand on his shoulder, but the boy – her equal in years, but not experience – curled close to her side and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She gripped tight and held him close, hiding her face in his shoulder as her own tears crawled out. Wishing for one moment that she were holding someone else.

She didn't see Celer weeping behind them, nor how the Narnians gathered around like a shield.

* * *

Peter saw them a mile out. Eagles and Gryphons perched on various outcroppings on a line of abandoned stone structures, black and jagged against the bright cove. The Skjalbard Islet was an old defensive outpost off the coast of Eion. They were a gathering of cliffs where old battle armaments loomed, stone buildings filed smooth by centuries of seawater, void of anything that once made them habitable. He spotted the _Dæios_ snuggled against the harbor and the _Ouranios_ a bit further towards the islet.

A relieved breath escaped his chest at the sight and he felt the return of hope. When Oreius' heavy hand clapped his shoulder he grinned and the two watched the _Celestial Halcyon_ glide closer to her target. "It appears Manon has more friends than we expected," Oreius said in comment to the Eagles. Magnificent creatures and far larger than their dumb cousins, these Birds were some of the soldiers who had fought with Aslan against Jadis.

The sun caught their oiled feathers as they basked on the cliffs, wing-tips fluttering in gusts of wind. Peter had trouble remembering anything more magnificent. Their shrill calls were caught in the swift winds and almost drowned out by the eternal swell, but their golden beaks caught the light spectacularly every time they spoke. He saw three Gryphons and recognized them distantly. Manon and Zizi were both hunters – males and thus a little smaller – and more vibrant in color than Otonoca - the darker, heavier matriarch of the group. The Eagles were slightly less varied in size and color, all bore the same tawny gold and moved with a lethal grace whether on land or in the air. Peter had seen Gryphons land in narrow settings before and the elegance they displayed in the air was brutally countered by their lumbering gait.

"I see Donn, Farbauti and Jorgmungandr. I know not the two males. They're younger," Oreius muttered next to him.

"I remember Donn. I heard he fought Dravigont," He looked up and Oreius hummed in agreement.

The Centaur nodded. "That was long before you got here."

A shipmate called land ahoy and a splash alerted that the anchor had been dropped. Peter snapped out of his daze. "Send a Falcon to _Ouranios_. Tell Binya to come out here."

He turned away from his general and joined a perturbed looking Ayel by the dingy. His men were lowering it with intent to go and meet the Great Birds on the main station on Skjalbard. The Eagles and Gryphons watched the _Halcyon_ attentively though none of them made to approach it. Peter knew it would be a miserable sight for them to try and land, considering their sheer size. None of the Eagles or Gryphons could land on the deck of the ship without risking the sails and rigging.

Peter hopped into the dingy with a nod to Uthar and a far more calculated nod to Oreius.

A Hyena followed him and the Galmians to the isle. It let out a quick giggle before it took its spot at the head and sat down. Peter by its back. The Galmians were all respectful of Narnians though many seemed nervous in the company of the larger animals. The men had had almost a week to adjust to Connie's presence and Peter was quickly losing any ability to take their nervousness under consideration. He saw the younger soldiers' nervous expressions as they approached the outpost and Otonoca's troop. One of the hunters, either Manon or Zizi had caught a fish. Peter made a note to invite Ayel's family to Cair Paravel in the near future. It wouldn't do for them to be wary around the Animals and Creatures of their sovereign home.

Not in the future.

A shipmate aboard the dingy hopped onto a half rotted ramp and wasted no time securing their vessel. Peter skipped off on the heels of Connie and followed her unwavering steps up the sharp cliffs. The Galmians followed in their wake.

"Your Majesty," Otonoca said and bowed grandly. Wings opening to a daunting span of nearly 17 feet. Feathers smooth and oily, almost glowing gold in the warm sun. She yielded to Donn as the Eagle approached in one, delicate hop.

"King Peter of the North," the Eagle greeted in a deep, booming voice. Remarkably different from the pitch of a Gryphon. Up close the differences were even more striking. Whereas the Eagles had the grace of Birds, half their size, the Gryphons were almost cat-like in body language and expression, moving in the coiled, smooth way a cat would stalk a prey. Sometimes twitching or jittering in a sudden impulse. The Eagles were sharp, moved in ticks and sent calculating looks around the gathered soldiers.

"Has Otonoca explained our situation?"

Donn bowed. "I need no further justifications, Sire. Your will be done."

Peter nodded and looked to the Gryphons. All of whom were friends of his. Residents of Cair Paravel. "I want you to wait here. If your presence is needed I'll send a Bird."

"Sire," such a Bird suddenly tweeted as it landed on the rock next to Donn. Their difference in size staggering.

"Bluebell," Something inside Peter's stomach dropped. "What are you doing here?"

The Sparrow glanced up at its much, much larger cousin and back to Peter. "I come with news, Sire."

"So I gather," He felt Ayel's gaze on his back, but refused to turn.

The Bird cleared its throat with a little twitter, seeming almost awkward, flapped its wings before it attempted to settle. "I was with the Queen all through the night. She has not slept a wink since her arrival, Sire."

Peter's expression softened at the thought of the fear she must have been feeling.

"She spoke with Aslan through an idol. Seeking His advice."

His compassion became confusion.

Bluebell halted again, glancing at Donn who loomed above him. Looking down with unending patience towards the small creature. "Early this morn she sent a letter to the Blue Mine."

Peter hadn't known the name, but the second it was uttered he felt hatred for Baskar bubble up in confusion's place.

"She wrote to the Terebinthian Prince, the only one spared from the collapse."

"He didn't go in," Ayel said.

Bluebell confirmed with a nod. "Queen Susan sent him a letter…" The little scout looked at Peter almost as though dreading its next words. The King's next actions.

"What?" Peter asked, pit in his stomach opening.

"She asked the Prince to seal the mine."

Something dropped away under his feet and the world ceased to shifted violently. He remained standing by sheer luck as he watched the Bird.

"It was collapsed a few hours after Queen Susan sent word. The King knows, his wife knows. Every citizen in Eion knows that Queen Susan ordered it closed and that a Terebinthian Prince executed it."

Peter's mouth had gone dry and an odd lightness wavered through him, making him sway in the wind. It was not he that spoke next, but his Gryphon Captain. "She sealed them in?" Her voice had gone small, unnaturally so for any creature her size, but Peter understood. He too felt small suddenly, bereft of any power he'd ever held. "She sealed in King Edmund and Queen Lucy?" Crippled by words.

Bluebell neither nodded nor shook his head. Instead he spoke. "And three of the Terebinthian Princes as well," The Bird continued as though sensing a reaction was imminent. "There was no indication that anyone was left alive inside and she…" It paused and Peter, whose gaze had fallen, snapped back to attention. "It was as though she _sensed_ something, Sire."

Its voice had lowered to a whisper as it said it, watching the King as intently as he watched _it_. As an afterthought Peter nodded. The world around him became almost fuzzy. Sounds muted and light clouded over to a pleasant haze. "She had a reason," he muttered and turned. Pausing to address Otonoca. "If I send word I want you to take the loose rocks from Skjalbard and attack the Storm," he whispered, though he knew her keen hearing picked it up. "Understood?"

The Gryphon nodded, as stunned as her King. She looked back at the little Sparrow who no longer looked nervous or awkward. Rather resigned. Steeled. "Bluebell. With me," Peter muttered in a hoarse voice and staggered down the cliffs, back towards the bridge and dingy.

The Bird hesitated but joined him with a few flicks of its wings, fluttering in his wake. They sailed back to the _Halcyon_ in silence. The High Duke looked almost ill and his men looked as though they'd rather be anywhere else. They climbed aboard the ship to complete silence, the rest of the crew picking up on their mood instantly. Oreius watched his King with mounting fear, but didn't speak a word. "Ayel, I need the Officer's cabin," Peter muttered in the same, numb voice.

"Sire," The Duke nodded and lingered behind with Oreius, to whom he asked, "Should I call the _Dæios_ out of the cove?"

The Centaur glanced away from his King and shook his head. "Keep it where it is."

Peter vanished into the shady officer's quarters with Bluebell fluttering along. He held the door for the Bird and closed it very softly as it flickered through. It took a seat on high perch at first until Peter waved it down. "Please, come closer."

It did as asked, though with a moment of hesitancy. It landed on the massive desk in the center of the room. Peter took the captain's chair and leaned his arms on the armrests. Hands open and eyes affixed on nothing. "Tell me about her," he whispered.

Poor Bluebell almost jumped from fright when he spoke, but forced his little heart to slow down – as much as any Bird could. The King sounded sad, not angry, but for a light that fell through the large window onto his back and cast his face half into shadow. "She was distraught when she arrived at the mine," he whispered in deference to his King's sudden quiet. "King Baskar explained the events that led to her arrival."

"Tell me what he said."

Bluebell would have licked his lips, had he any. Instead his wings unfolded only to be tucked back along his flanks. "Sire…"

"Tell me," Peter said in a harder tone.

"There were plants growing," Peter looked up. "The plants were killing Terebinthians, the King said."

Peter watched the Bird with mounting anger.

"King Baskar admitted to knowledge of the plants prior to Queen Lucy and King Edmund's sojourn into the mine."

"Were the plants poisonous?"

Bluebell shook his head regretfully. "I know not, Sire," He was but a Bird and had heard only half of the conversation from his high perch.

"Keep talking."

"The Queen acted as though she realized something of great import, Your Majesty. I trust-" Bluebell interrupted itself.

"Keep talking," he repeated more forcefully.

The Bird stalled once more before he stuttered on. "At the news Her Majesty became distraught. She returned to the Storm with Titus and two guards. I followed as are my orders," _Always watch over her, protect her_ , Oreius' voice echoed somberly in his mind. Peter's eyes caught what little light reflected off various items in the room, though the cavities around them remained dark and hidden. Casting him into a strange appearance, almost menacing. "She visited the idol."

"And then what?"

"Then she wrote a missive and sent Titus to deliver it."

"Who else did she speak to?"

"No one, Sire."

Peter's jaws clenched and he swallowed. His fingers tightened around the arm rests. Bluebell watched in strange fascination as the rather large human grew more and more imposing, yet sat completely still. The little Bird was afraid to speak unless asked a direct question and so kept quiet. Waiting.

"Would you do something for me?" Peter asked, his voice having fallen into a rather gravelly state.

Bluebell nodded and hopped eagerly forward.

"Return to my sister. Perform your job as you have so diligently until now."

Bluebell's little stomach clenched, but he nodded regardless. Watching as the King's focus draw inward. "Sire?"

Peter looked up with flicker of rage burning in his eyes, though his voice remained quiet. "What?"

"I-" He made an aborted movement towards the door and then the windows. "I need you to let me out, Sire," he whispered. Never in his young life had Bluebell felt such fear. Never had he felt so humbled or powerless in the presence of another.

When the High King of Narnia pushed out of his seat and opened a window Bluebell shot through it as though his tail feathers had been lit on fire. He rushed through the golden hued afternoon – soon to be evening – towards the royal keep that peeked out high above the city. Flying as fast as his little wings could carry him.

* * *

Susan had retreated with Hilio and her men, to the prayer garden and now sat on one of the benches in the waning sunlight. Waiting for news perhaps, or just waiting for something to change. Her guilt had dulled and left her void. But the hollow was a welcome change and she grabbed onto it with feeble fingers. Fearful at the thought of losing it.

Baskar and Hira had vanished as well, along with the ladies and children of the Princes. Maids and pages avoided Susan – or Hilio, she couldn't tell – by skirting past them in wide arches. Casting wary looks. Shame had taken guilt's place. The soldiers even seemed to want to avoid their youngest soverign and the visiting Queen. Only the Narnian guards remained, Titus and Celer closest, their men second. Helios hovered by the entrance to the prayer garden. Susan looked around once again for Dahlia and Costar, but saw not hide nor hair of them. The hollow twisted her thoughts. They had left her.

She wondered what they thought of her actions. If they understood her part in what happened, and if her orders had driven them both to such shock that they could no longer perform their most entrusted task. Or perhaps they had simply abandoned her. Perhaps they they were watching, waiting to see her punished for her crimes against her own siblings, filled with anger. A tear rolled down her cheek. The thought of their disgust brought more tears to her eyes and a little sob pressed its way out of her throat and made those closest turn with sympathy in their eyes. Likeminded wounds in their eyes from the horrors she had forced upon them. The only one who didn't look at her with pity was Celer. She guessed it the second they returned, but had decided not to question: there was no doubt in her mind that her Captain had been the one to execute her order. The physical manifestation of her hand when she couldn't be present.

She didn't quite know its limit, but knew she loved him for it. For his trust. The way his eyes changed as the two looked at each other told her he might know as much. Might even love her as well. Still. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and swallowed, welcoming back the numbness. She didn't see Celer do the same.

Then suddenly a shout rang out among the soldiers on watch along the outer wall. A watcher called out, quickly followed by others. Near two dozen rapidly mobilized in the entry courtyard with pages fleeing inside.

 _Then_ Susan saw it, soaring high in the heavens, with wings longer than a horse from snout to tail-tip: Gryphons. Eagles. She slowly rose and suddenly ran towards the ring of soldiers gathered in the yard, her companions close behind her. "Aslan," Hilio sighed with wide eyes focused on the approaching creatures.

"Peter," Susan whispered to herself, but catching the attention of her men nevertheless. Fear rushed through her at the sight of him.

"Your Majesty, go inside!" One of the Narnians warned the Prince, though Hilio barely looked as though he heard.

The winged creatures drew closer and Susan saw men perched atop their backs, riding them like horses. Her heart began pounding furiously and her hands began sweating. "Your Majesty," Celer said as he placed a hand on her arm, wanting to pull her away. Worried for her, she realized. Fearful of her brother's reaction. She reached up and gripped his hand, but kept her eyes on Otonoca as the Gryphon flew closer to the courtyard and made to land in the center of it. It was indeed Peter, perched atop her back. On Manon she spotted Nex and Bacchus, Fauns of the royal guard. In Zizi's giant talons hung Connie, quite patiently, and on his back sat Rango. An Eagle lowered Lir, an Ocelot from the royal guard as well onto the ground before taking off. The Hyena was dropped and Rango hopped off before Zizi took two strokes to land on the roof of the castle keep. Manon pushed off from the ground as well and landed next to his fellow, partially hidden from view. Three fauns, a Great Cat, a Hyena, and her brother.

King Baskar stormed in the courtyard with the ladies of his house; soldiers, the two oldest granddaughters, and his advisor on his heels. All stopped as one to watch the spectacle and held their breaths when the fabled, Narnian King dismounted from a creature none of them had ever dreamed of seeing. Otonoca shook out her fur and feathers and stayed on the ground behind her king.

Susan was tucked away to the side, Celer pressed by her side, but her brother's clear eyes sought her out with unerring certainty. Only lingering on the other royals for a second. Instead of moving towards _them_ he headed towards Susan with sure steps and a charged air about him. Susan had seen him pressed beyond his boundaries only once or twice before, only in Narnia. She couldn't help but withdraw when he came to a stop three paces from her, face unreadable. But instead of launching into the angry confrontation she had dreaded, he stood before her, completely silent. And stared.

She realized this was worse. Her arms felt detached from the rest of her body and a nervous fever ignited in the core of her being, grating against her skin. She watched him, unblinking just as he watched her. She opened her mouth to speak his name, but no sound came out. All her fear had vanished and fallen quiet.

Suddenly he kneeled, stiff as before, in a perfunctory bow, and rose. Without a word he then turned to face the head of the household. "King Baskar," He bowed to the royal family and received the same. All stunned into stupor. "I wonder if we may speak somewhere?" He glanced towards the grand entrance and jolted the King out of his shock.

"Certainly," the King forced out and held out his hands out to gently urge the Queen and her ladies back inside. Preceding both the kings, but perhaps also shielding them from Peter. Susan didn't fail to notice the anxious glance Baskar shot at his youngest son before he led the rest of his family away.

Hilio, still very much a shell of his prior self, watched them leave and only made to follow when Susan headed in on her brother's wake. Celer and company following silently.

Otonoca remained outside as five Eagles landed along the outer wall. Gracefully and without a sound.

* * *

TBC

A/N: Again, so sorry for the long wait. Was a helluva project, but it should be over and done now, with the next one slowly revving its gears. It'll be a month or so before I start stressing about _that_.


	14. On the Backs of Dragons

Chapter 14: On the Backs of Dragons

Phi looked towards the glimmer of light and inhaled as deeply as he could. A wet rattle stopped his intake of air, more and more with every breath and his chest felt tight as though iron bands circled it. Fluid was drowning him in a world that had none. Things were crawling all over him. _Growing_ on him and interchangeably tickling or stinging intimate places on his body. But they were frail, even the thick limbs, weaker than his nails as he began pulling strings out of his own skin. He bled and more surged over him, creeping into any orifice they could find. Places too intimate to think about. His jaw was clamped down despite the sensation of choking, but he could do little to protect his nose, ears, groin or the hundreds of little wounds that littered his body.

He could rip them out.

He began with forceful movements at first, but grew frantic as each effort spent precious energy and only drew more slithering to him. His jerks and movements aroused something in the vines. They thought he was food. They thought he was dumb and panicked. That he would not know to seek upwards towards the light. _Away_ from the things that brushed over his skin and stung inside when they found an open wound.

Away from the whispers in the dark.

* * *

Méssida moved among the men and women on the docks of Eion when she saw seven mighty figures in the sky. Her clear sight caught them coming before any of the humans among her. She saw them clear as the mighty sun and knew with a sinking unease what they symbolized. She watched them land on one of the Skjalbard isles on the very tip of the horizon. She even saw the pale sails of the Galmian navy join not long after.

The _Ouranios_ would withdraw farther away from the cove, to anchor with the Galmians.

She watched the seagulls of Eion port scream in brief rebellion at the much larger Birds. It was change in nature so minute that none other noticed. Still so far out to sea that none but she acknowledged.

She took a deep breath and measured her paces among the men and women of the harbor, listening to their gossip, picking up stray and vague rumors. Animosity buzzed loudly on the edge of every voice, though it dimmed easily when urged to reconsider Hilio's reasoning. She knew he had committed an act of treason, both against his own crown, but also against Narnia. She knew her own Queen was involved, though none spoke directly of how. They were sated gossiping about her beguiling nature, how the siren of Cair Paravel ensnared many a visitors by her appearance alone.

Those rumors were not so easily swayed.

Méssida listened from the shadows, disguised as a cloaked hag or by mists of warm air that put those in close vicinity at ease. She swathed herself in the shadows of dank corners in the wine soaked taverns with her back against the wall until word reached the city of a stirring inside the Storm.

The waning afternoon sun glowed orange and warm as she hurried outside. The Eagles and Gryphons had all alighted from Skjalbard and flown directly to the keep to the great upheaval of the small people of Eion. She looked back to the _Ouranios_ and saw she had been rowed further out. Joined by a handful of Galmian ships, sailing white flags with blue crosses, though the _Dæios_ still sat in the harbor. Waiting.

She swallowed against the sense of impending doom and felt the first tug to return aboard her own vessel. That first stirring was slight and easily outweighed by her sense of duty. With that duty in mind she slipped in with a group of angrily murmuring people as they lit lanterns in the coming dusk and ventured out of the city.

Towards the Storm.

* * *

Ayel Maeon-Tal watched the Galmian ships draw closer to the _Ouranios_ and the _Celestial Halcyon_. They cast anchor and lowered all flags. There was a scent in the air felt only by a few. Sounds among the many souls aboard the ships filled the early evening as he gazed over them all.

"Any Doves in the sky," he asked Uthar quietly.

"None, Milord."

Ayel sighed against his mounting frustration. "How long before the Calormenes get here?"

"If they are indeed coming here."

The Duke shot a quick glare at his young captain.

"No less than four days, Milord. A week if no wind blows."

Ayel nodded and returned his eyes to the billowing waters.

"May I ask you a question, Milord?" the Captain asked.

Ayel nodded and looked up.

"If Luz attacks from the rear how will you aide the King should he require it?"

The High Duke sighed in despair. He had pondered the very same question himself. He had even written King Lune for assistance in any way possible, should the situation warrant it. He had promised to give word if such became the case. Now he regretted not simply asking on behalf of King Peter. Lune would come without hesitation if the Narnian throne was at risk. He would come when he heard the news of King Edmund and Queen Lucy.

But Archenland were not a seafaring nation the same way Galma or Terebinthia was. The King would have moved heaven and earth, but motions such as those would only have electrified their air more and spurred potential enemies to sail faster.

It had been Ayel's own cowardice in the face such consequences that had kept him from asking outright. A cowardice he now lamented. "The King trusts me," he said to his captain. "King Peter trusts me to help him _here_. I can do little but honor that trust," He looked up at Uthar. "Is there something on your mind?"

The captain looked towards the shore. "I share your desire. No more than that."

Ayel nodded, sinking into his own mind. "I promised to wait. That is what intend to do."

Uthar nodded and returned and waited a beat before returning to his men. Leaving the Duke to stare into the ocean and further away, the port of Eion, as the day came to an end.

* * *

Susan watched from the rear of the throne room as her brother stood before Baskar and Hira. The smell inside was of burning oil and dust. It was a cold room because of its size, but as more people and creatures filed in, the heat began to climb. It was striking how she had never realized how quiet her life would become without her siblings to talk to.

Celer regarded her with heavyset eyes as though waiting for permission for something, but Susan was at a loss of what to give. To order anything with any kind of certainty. She had not thought much upon her own longings since sending Titus with the missive, but even as she realized it, she began to worry again. Fear began to eat at her stomach and it gave a sickening lurch.

She looked around the room with claws raking at her insides. Feeling as though something was waiting to be found. The warmth of the room seemed adverse to her fear. She closed her eyes against the sights. Withdrew as a passive listener from the conversation and slid into the shadows.

In a room, filled with so many people, no one noticed the Narnian party follow her out. One by one.

* * *

"Your Majesty, we were alerted this very day to the most recent circumstances," King Baskar said from his throne. Voice nearly quivering with nervousness as Peter stood silently before them all.

He didn't notice his sister leave the room. Nor did the Terebinthian King and Queen. "I've come to enquire more on those _circumstances_."

"It was my fault, King Peter-"

"Stay _silent!_ " the King screeched in violent response to his son's sudden distraction and rose from his throne.

Peter flinched around, his three Faun guards drawing their weapons in unison. Helios drew his weapon as well. The Galmian Captain having taken up a position next to the King of his sovereign home. Sounds of many more swords being drawn followed as every soldier present in the hall armed themselves.

"Please!" Hilio cried out, desperation clear in his voice. He stepped closer to Peter with his hands out, but stopped just out of range of Peter's guard. "Please let me speak-"

"You will do _no_ such thing," Baskar roared, still standing.

Peter turned and raised a hand. The King fell silent with a pleading expression, but meekly sank back into the throne. His wife reached over and grabbed his hand. Peter turned to face the youngest Prince. "Speak your mind."

Hilio's expression became almost desperate. "I was asked and I obeyed. Out of agreement with the sentiment. And out of loyalty," he added as an afterthought.

* * *

Susan exited the keep and found it full of trembling soldiers. Evening was crawling over the sky in cloudy swipes and a chill permeated the air. Men gathered in the far corners of the courtyard as they discretely armed themselves, nervous eyes on Otonoca and the Eagles still perched on the wall. The Gryphons, Zizi and Manon, were gone from view, but she knew they waited just out of sight.

Ready at the first sign of trouble.

* * *

Peter swallowed against the very intimate knowledge of who had asked Hilio to collapse the mine though he daren't put words to his question and ask who carried out the order. "What was the reasoning behind your decision?"

"Please, Your Majesty-" Baskar made to interrupted, but was interrupted himself.

"He stands accused of treason against the Thrones of Cair Paravel," Peter turned directly to the King. "If he does not explain himself he'll be sentenced according to Narnian Law."

"A law your own brother wrote-"

"You do not mention my brother to me!" Peter shouted, taking a threatening step closer to the King, noticing every one of the Terebinthian soldiers taking a step forward and his own guard drawing closer.

"Please, stop!" Hilio shouted.

"The Laws of Narnia govern all who wish to remain allies-"

"And what of Calormene Law?" the King challenged as he stood once more.

"Please," Hira whispered, but was barely heard.

"A kingdom _far_ larger and _older_ than your Narnian one."

* * *

Otonoca watched her Queen as she exited and offered a low, bow. Several Narnian soldiers followed in her wake, but all kept a respectable distance.

In that moment the fear that had steadily built itself up inside Susan fell away completely and left in its wake a strange kind of serenity. "Queen Susan," she heard Celer utter. He and his men stood behind her, but she didn't acknowledge them.

Instead she kept Otonoca's gaze and walked with sure steps towards the creature.

* * *

Peter's eyes widened and his hand flexed towards Rhindon, aching to draw it. "Calormene Law is _man_ made," he answered in a cold, loud voice. "If you wish to challenge the one who made the Narnian laws- _your_ _Narnian laws_ , you are welcome to do so," He gestured without looking to a mighty embroidered tapestry that decorated the far wall. The head of a gold Lion was lovingly embroidered onto a maroon colored drapery. Golden bands of the sun behind Him. "Be sure you ask Him why he wrote the laws that govern you, _ask_ Him why the sky turns the way it does!" he roared and took a step closer. "Ask Him why he chose _us_. And _not_ you."

He breathed deeply when Baskar shifted and remained silent. Peter continued. "I'm here for an answer to the events that have occurred. I know you may not wish to give them, but that is no longer an option."

"Beware of the room, King Peter," Hira said in a quivering voice. Two silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She gestured to the soldiers, outnumbering the Narnians.

An unbridled anger flickered to life and loosened his muscles, sinking him into an unnatural calm with fury so very close below the surface. In recent years he had come to control himself by the very same anger that once governed him. The frustration of a misspent youth, waiting on the sidelines, powerless.

In years past he had become the enforcer of his own will. A King in name and spirit.

With an outward calm he looked directly at the Queen. " _One_ _boy_ once defeated a creature that sank an entire _country_ into timeless winter," He straightened and unclenched the hand that had longed for the grip of his pommel. Instead loosened his shoulders. "How many soldiers do you _think_ it would take to make a Narnian cower?"

In the silence after his question all heard the low, menacing rumble of the Hyena. Her chest close to the floor as she let loose a throaty growl.

"Please," Hilio said once more, but this time to his father and mother. Wide, tear-filled eyes, catching theirs. " _Please_."

Peter turned to the younger man and held his breath.

* * *

"Your Majesty," Otonoca greeted and bowed even deeper once Susan approached. "What brings you to my paw?"

Susan looked around the men gathered. "Have you heard of my actions?"

The shrewd Gryphon blinked slowly at her a moment before she nodded. "Did _you_ send Bluebell?" The Gryphon's eyes darted upward toward the carven rain gutters along the edges of the courtyard. No doubt finding the Sparrow even in the dimming light.

"Yes."

Otonoca nodded, an understanding of sorts beginning to dawn. "He performed admirably, Your Majesty."

Susan smiled faintly. "As I expected he would."

* * *

Hilio was the picture of fear. "I take full responsibility for the actions leading the second collapse."

"No," Baskar muttered.

Peter watched him with wavering determination. "And what of the Calormenes?" He turned back to Baskar.

"What?" the King frowned.

Peter's own expression flickered. "We were warned on our approach that Luz Tarkaan is heading north with seven warships," He kept his tone firm and allowed his soldiers their protective stances.

"Not on our word," Baskar said, anger coloring his words.

Peter nodded faintly. "I believe you," Letting his anger fall away as though it had never been there. Then turned to Hilio. "But the actions you took against the King and Queen of Narnia have yet to be mitigated. Do you have _any_ defense?"

Hilio's shoulders lowered as Peter's guards slowly circled him. "I-" Hilio glanced at his parents. "The mine was dangerous, Sire."

His jaw clenched. "Yes that much has become evident."

But Hilio seemed to sink into himself at the words. "More than you know, Your Majesty."

" _How_?"

* * *

"Will you help me?" the young queen whispered in a voice the mighty Gryphon had never wanted to hear on a Queen or King. Meek.

"I am your to command, My Queen," she said with a deep bow, wings level with the ground. Once she straightened she saw her Queen nearly moved to tears as the young woman nodded.

She almost looked as though she wanted to smile, but had forgotten how. "Thank you," she whispered past the remarkable lightening of her heart. "I need to go east, over the mountains."

Could Otonoca smile, she would have. "These little mountains hold nothing the power of my wings, Lady. Climb on," she said as she bowed.

"Queen Susan!" Celer erupted and took a step forward. He looked from the Gryphon to his Queen.

"It's alright, Celer," Susan said through teary eyes. Her smile was infinitely sad, but held the beauty of youth despite it. "Tell me brother I've gone to complete my task," she said as she climbed onto Otonoca's broad back.

"Your Majesty!" one of the Terebinthian guards called even as the beast reared back her head and loosened a mighty Eagle-like shriek into the cooling air. With one, mighty push she set off from the ground and shot, nearly vertically into the air, with the Queen on her back.

* * *

Peter staggered back in abject shock at Hilio's confession about the Blue Mine. About the nature of the plants within. His eyes were wide and disbelieving and his hand had gripped his sword without conscious thought. "What," he whispered. His youngest siblings were trapped in there.

Hilio jerked forward in a pleading gesture when a booming scream suddenly split the air, causing all conversation to stop and yelps from those gathered. Peter looked frantically at Bacchus who looked just as surprised as his King. Both knew the creature that made such a sound and without a word the entire Narnian troop surged out of the throne room along with many Terebinthians. Swords out at the ready, they stormed into the crowded courtyard and were met with the aftereffect of chaos. "What happened?" Peter barked when he spotted Celer and his men.

The Faun jolted at his King's voice, but quickly focused. "It's the Queen, Sire. Otonoca took off from the ground with her."

" _What_!" Peter yelled in outrage, blood still warm from his dealings with the royal family. "Go after her," He yelled at the general direction of the roof, where the two remaining Gryphons took off without delay. Donn and his herd watched attentively for any cue from Peter who shook his head, even as thoughts of _Ouranios_ , _Dæios_ and _Celestial Halcyon_ filled his mind. He'd never thought his sister impetuous. Susan had always been considerate. Careful even, but as he watched her fly away as fast as only the matriarch of Gryphons _could_ he felt more lost than ever before. He wondered what she was thinking. Wondered, in a complete absence of understanding, why she had committed so many uncharacteristic acts in only the span of few days. What had compelled a generous and considerate person to act so recklessly?

And he began to realize, with a paralyzing fear, that he might as well not know her at all.

* * *

The wind ripped at her hair and called tears to her eyes as Otonoca rose higher and higher, to catch the updrafts that beat against the mountains. The Storm fell away with the rest of the earth, but Zizi and Manon had taken pursuit. "Captain!" she yelled down through the roar of wind in her ears. Her fingers were quickly becoming numb in the freezing wind, but she clamped down on the tufts of feathers and fur on Otonoca's ridge.

"I hear them, My Queen!" the Gryphon called in her shrill voice and gave one, mighty beat of her wings. Taking them higher still. "They can _try_ to follow me," The steel in her voice sent a shiver down Susan's spine that had nothing to do with wind or cold.

They climbed at a rabid pace, forgetting all sense. Forgetting caution. Susan felt in that moment as though the creature felt her urgency as fiercely as _she_ did.

"Which direction?" Otonoca screeched.

"East!" Susan called and clenched down when the Gryphon banked left. Every beat of her wings shook Susan to the core until all she could do was pant breathlessly. Wind smacking strings of her wild hair against her cheeks, making them blush.

She had felt bereft this past day, alone, and still did. But as she saw the blue mountains ahead of her stand out against an orange sky she began to feel a sense of certainty. "Make land when you see the ocean!" Susan called down, unbeknownst carrying the same steel in her own voice just then.

The Gryphon nodded and pushed harder, shooting through the uncontrollable winds that roamed along the peaks of the mountains. And it was at that moment, with a glint in her eye and a burgeoning smile, that Susan finally found what she had been looking for.

* * *

Méssida watched with waves of unease rolling through her as the crowds gathered outside the Storm. Torches beginning to shine brighter as the day fell to night. She had felt the tension and suddenly saw, as though from a picture, what the crowds intended. With a gasp, she drew her cloak tighter and spun on her heel.

She dodged bobbing bodies until she reached the end of the crowd and then allowed herself to disperse into the air. Heading with the sweet, inland breeze, back to the _Ouranios_. Back to Binya.

* * *

Ayel hadn't seen the bird arrive and thus startled when his captain suddenly arrived in front of him. "Sire."

The man was grim on a perfect day, but seemed even more so at that moment. "What news?" He stood, tension running through his body.

"Word from Lune. The Calormenes crossed the Archen Ridge," the Captain said in a bleak tone.

Ayel's breath stalled and his heart throbbed. "Where is General Oreius?"

"There,"

The Centaur, who had been watching came clapping over in a seconds. "What is it, High Duke?" he asked in his deep voice. Calm as an undiscovered cavern.

"Calormene ships have crossed the Ridge," He turned to Uthar. "How far off the coast?"

"Only about eight leagues out."

He ran a shivering hand down his face and looked up at the Centaur. "The suspicion is they're coming straight here."

Instead of paling, or in fact showing any sign of distress as Ayel had imagined, the general merely nodded. "Very well. I will alert the palace watch."

He turned, leaving both men to stare at his wake, wondering if the massive Narnian had drunken too much ocean water when they weren't looking. Uthar snapped out of his shock first. "What are your orders, Lord?"

Ayel glanced at the Captain before he turned back to Oreius who was gesturing to another Narnian, back at Ayel and Uthar. "Do nothing."

" _Sire_ ," he said in near outrage.

"We _hold_ ," Ayel said, allowing some of his determination to show. He would not have them divided. Not when his Kings and Queens were in danger.

* * *

Through a rear entrance at the Storm, five figures were seen sneaking out to join two already waiting in the dusk. "We've been watching as instructed, Captain," a female voice called out in the evening air.

Celer nodded and took in the information as well as recent events.

"What are your orders?"

He looked into the sky, in the direction his Queen had flown and lamented the lack of wings. "It's too late to follow. We'd need-"

A quick screech split the air and two pairs of massive wings displaced air as the creatures, they were attached to, landed. "What…" Titus whispered into the gloom.

"Masters of Narnia," a booming voice called.

"Who flies there?" Celer called, noting his men – those who _had_ them – had all drawn arms.

"It is I, Jyr of the North."

"And I," said another voice, exactly alike. "Tyr of the North."

"Birds," Dahlia groaned and though Celer could no longer see her face clearly he noticed the exasperation perfectly.

" _Eagles_ ," Jyr corrected primly.

A faint smile lit up Celer's face in the dark. "What brings you here, Sirs?"

"We come on implicit demand of our Sire and Dam, Donn and Jorgmungandr."

Celer nodded, wondering if they could see it in the dark.

"What does implicit mean?" Costar asked smartly from his spot just behind Dahlia, who snorted.

"It refers to that which is implied, _Cat_ ," Jyr said in a sober voice.

"He means to ask, what does it mean for _you_ ," Titus joined. He too looked far beyond the nervous wreck he had been moments before.

In truth something seemed to have suddenly breathed life into the air. Awakening emotions in the dark where one could freely smile.

"Our Dam, Jorgmungandr, slayer of mighty snakes-"

"Hop to it, Bird," Dahlia moaned.

"Requested in a manner most familiar to us that we seek to find the truth of the evening."

"And what might that be?" Celer asked. He caught faintly that the two Eagles looked at each other in the darkness.

"It is why we seek _you_ , Narnian."

"The Queen has flown," the same voice joined. Celer was unsure, but suspected the one who spoke to be Tyr. "We seek to discover why."

His good mood abruptly fell to the wayside and he looked back to try and read the expressions of his fellows. "You've sought us in vain, I fear."

The mood darkened all around except, it seemed, in the Birds. "Has she not a good reason for doing so?"

Celer sighed. "She usually does."

"What are her usual reasons?" the other one asked.

He glanced back again, to try and catch a hint from one of the gathered, but none of them spoke up. "Usually something that saves the day in the nick of time-" He cut himself off as a peculiar, plummeting awareness fell through him. His mouth hung open and he near forgot to breathe.

"Sire-Faun?" Jyr asked.

"Celer," Hydox, a rowan dryad, enquired more softly. She placed a wooden hand carefully on his arm. "What vexes you, Captain?"

The Faun turned in the darkness and stared at the faces he could no longer see. "She always has," he said.

"What?" Costar asked.

"Saved us," Dahlia finished. Understanding dawning by the tone of her voice. "She knows."

"Knows _what_?" Titus barked.

"Where they are," Celer breathed out. "She knows where they are."

* * *

TBC


	15. In the Belly of the Beast

_A/N: Warning, I'm revving up to hurt Edmund quite badly in this and the following chapter(s). If you know me then you know the extent of my madness. If not, I'm truly apologetic of what I intend to subject you to :) Ta!  
_

Chapter 15: In the Belly of the Beast

He watched the shadows that danced off arches and large windowless homes. He wondered, not for the first time, if it had been war that drove these peoples from their homes, or something _else_. "How long do you suppose it's been since anyone lived here?" Lucy asked. She was sitting next to him, watching the unending sky. It would be days before the sun set again and even longer for the light to leave the sky.

"Could be a thousand years."

"How long do you think we've been gone?" she then asked.

Edmund smiled. She had regained her spirits a bit after eating their meagre rations. They all had. "Shorter than here."

"Because it _feels_ like we've been here for over a week and the sun has only set once since we arrived," she continued in explanation.

"I know," Edmund felt a strange serenity in calm midday-sun. It was bright yellow and warm, but he missed the clear hues of their Narnian days. Lucy had mentioned to him that they should appreciate it despite their longing for home, for its unique beauty. He could agree with her just this once.

"How long before we're home do you think?" she continued.

He glanced in the direction of the men. "One Narnian week at most, until we can clear a big enough hole through the collapse. We'll probably only have one more sunset in this place," He smiled at her, hoping to exude confidence. Hoping it would rub off.

"But what about the other entrance?" It didn't work.

The one back on Terebinthia, he realized. "Well _that_ might already be open," He realized he had overlooked the initial catastrophe that stranded here in the first place. Had forgotten the nation that must've been working tirelessly to clear an entrance on the other end.

Lucy had her own worries. Mostly about clearing an exit on this side only be stuck in the darkness with those plants. "Shouldn't we stay here then, where we can hunt for food?"

He shrugged. "We should probably head back just to see how far they've gotten," He tried to smile again. "Peter probably hopped a ship the moment the news reached him."

"We should bring him something," she whispered peculiarly lighthearted.

"Yes. We'll bring him a pretty rock," He picked up a fragment of lime stone and smirked when Lucy knocked it out of his hand.

"Don't be a tot," She once again looked disheartened and his guilt flashed.

"It's been a while since I've been this moody hasn't it?" he asked in apology.

"Not really," she mumbled into the bright light. "You nearly killed a man yesterday. I would call that rather moody," It felt then as if their roles reversed. He became despondent and she tried to cheer him up. "Oi," She touched his shoulder to draw his attention. "You saved our lives."

Edmund nodded with his eyes far away. " _Theirs_ , at least," He gestured with his head to the Terebinthians. "I don't think he meant you or I any harm."

"Does it matter?"

The statement was pure Lucy and he found it hard not to smile, despite the ever present sense of _something_ waiting to erupt. His light cheer faded completely when he remembered the look in Kairon's eyes. "I think he just had a heatstroke, Lu," His eyes again drifted to the open horizon. "It wasn't his fault," His voice thickened on the last word though he didn't feel any real remorse. _Not really_. The man had been dangerous. Just because Lucy hadn't been hurt that one time didn't mean Kairon wouldn't have tried later had he been given half a chance.

His younger sister allowed the silence to settle between them as she too turned to the view. There were no clouds in the sky and the unforgiving sun beat down on their crowns. The second shift was dragging rocks clear of the mine. "How do _you_ think it happened then?" she asked out of the blue.

"How did what happen?" He glanced at her, snapping out of his own thoughts.

"How do you think an entire city just died?"

Edmund accepted her change in topic and wrapped his arm around her when she leaned closer. They touched each other more when they had a moment to themselves, he realized. These familiar touches which now brought the only source of comfort, had passed largely unnoticed in Narnia. Were _sought_ out, here. "Well I think there might've been some kind of trouble south of here."

"Why do you say that?" She twisted her head to look at him, careful not to slip out of his embrace.

He reached out his free hand and pointed south. "Do you see that bluish, grey line?"

She nodded.

"I think it's a wall," It ran horizontally from one end of the world to the other. Too long to see either end.

"Really?"

"Mhm. There's one north of here as well."

She turned in that direction to see. "That one's closer," She had noticed it before and wondered at its function. Well, to keep something out, she allowed. _Or in_.

He nodded and squeezed her shoulder. "I think maybe the south, the north and the center were at war with one another."

"Really?" She sounded unreasonably intrigued which drew a little smirk from him, knowing it was a trap.

"Really."

"You lack imagination, Edmund," she sighed and leaned heavily against him.

He smiled, a bit dully, and followed her eyes back to the view. "So what do _you_ think happened?"

"Well it all started with a princess of course-"

"Of _course_ ,"

"She lived in that palace just _there_ ," Lucy pointed to three towers very far away. They sparkled like little needles under the sun like they were plated in fine silver and gold. "She was very much in love with a young blacksmith."

"A blacksmith, really?" He glanced at her indignantly.

"Shush," she hushed before she continued, knowing Edmund would be absorbed just as he always was. For a boy who once prided himself on reason he had become remarkably fond of fairytales. She figured it was because they lived in one. "So the princess fell in love, but the prince of the south was in love with _her_ -"

"U-oh."

" _Shush,_ Edmund! I'm telling the story," She slapped his chest and made him giggle. His hands burned from blisters that had begun to redden his skin. "So the princess, afraid for the blacksmith's life, built a wall to keep the southern prince out."

"That doesn't explain the wall to the north."

"Well not all stories are perfect," she said dismissively and tricked a real laugh out of her brother. Those of the men who were resting glanced at the two sovereigns, listening with smiles on their faces.

"Your story's horrible!"

"It is _not_ ," She slapped his chest again. " _You_ tell it then."

He calmed and saddened a bit once more. "Mine is considerably grimmer," He tried to look at her face, but the angle made it difficult.

"Tell it anyway. I like grim stories."

He didn't know if she was confusing 'grim' with 'scary', but thought it wise to share some of his ideas with her. "Well there were no princesses."

"Oh," she fired off sadly and made his lips tick upward.

"It was a council of old men. But you're right, that _is_ a palace," He pointed to the distant spires. "There were once two cities. One to the south and one to the north."

"That isn't so grim," she said softly.

"Will you shush?" he copied mildly.

"You didn't," She grinned at his scoff. Someone behind them giggled, but it was low enough for Edmund to ignore.

"There were two cities. The one further north was the seat of The Council of Old Men. The ones who decided everything."

"Like our Owl council?"

"There are women on the Owl council," He knew the name of one at least.

"Yes, but she doesn't really count."

"Why not?"

Lucy shrugged. "I don't know. Peter said something about her plumage."

Edmund wanted to chuckle, but tried to hide it from his sister. "Yes, very well: Like the Owl council."

"And then what happened?" She leaned closer to him. Unbeknownst to them Baro had picked up on their tale as well. Sounds of labor could still be heard from the mine entrance, but for now half of the group could relax and eat what was left of the gristle and marrow. Listen as the royals spoke softly with one another and eat the murky soup that was the only unappetizing product of their kill.

"Then one day the southern city decided it wanted to rule itself. It formed its own council that decided to mine for treasures in the ground."

"Like the Terebinthians?" Lucy's voice had suddenly gotten very quiet.

 _Look where that got us_. "Like the Terebinthians, yes," The men who were listening now leaned a little closer, raptured by the tale despite weary expressions of guilt. "They dug deep into the ground and awoke something that hadn't seen the light of day for a thousand years," His mind flashed back to the whispers in the well. They were nothing like the howls and yelps from the dogs. Nothing at all. "The monsters crawled out of the ground and hunted everything in the southern city."

He could already tell Lucy was tense, but he didn't want to stop. It had been on his mind since they arrived and the more he thought on it the more sense it made. "So the council of the northern city decided to build a wall, _that_ one," he said, pointing to southernmost one. "…to separate the two and keep the monsters out."

"But it didn't work," Lucy said solemnly.

"No it didn't. The monsters dug under the walls and attacked the northern city so the citizens fled even further north, into colder lands," He turned his eyes slightly north so they could see the massive wall that stretched from the row of mountains behind them – the mountains in which their mine was located – and to the very edge of the horizon. "They built another wall. An even bigger one."

"Do you think that one kept the monsters out?" she asked.

It was amazing the things his sister managed to feel compassion for. Even make-believe people spun from Edmund's day-tales. "Yes, I think it might," he lied, though as he watched the northern wall he couldn't help but hope. It was too horrible to imagine an entire civilization being wiped out without a trace. That not a single soul of an entire world, one that could build such amazing structures, had survived. "They're hiding in the north. Waiting for the monsters to leave or die out," He lightened his voice a little, the way Peter always did, and hoped it soothed over his inadequate ending.

She watched the horizon a moment before she spoke. "Edmund?"

"Hm?"

"Those monsters from your story. Were those the ones you heard in the well?"

He tensed. "I don't know," he confessed in a low mutter.

"I hope not," Lucy wrapped both her arms around his torso and pressed closer. He returned it by wrapping both arms around her as well. "Can I finish _my_ story now?"

He let out a relieved chuckle and petted her arm. "Sure, Lu."

"So the princess was very lovely, like Susan, and she had a…"

Her voice ebbed into the clear day and Edmund allowed himself to be swept up by it. Behind them Escar and Baro looked at each other. Had the Terebinthians dug too deep? Had they inadvertently caused their brother's death? The questions were almost unbearable for the young princes and Baro hoped to never have them answered.

* * *

"They need a name," Lucy mumbled suddenly, after a long while of focused silence, as she pulled free a rock. She was panting and sweating under the hot sun. Gedeminas had made her a little hat, the pale strawberry blonde suffering miserably under the direct sun as well. Edmund's eyes sought out his sister's hands to look for glimpses of red flesh, but saw none. She had wrapped leathers around her palms like the most of the men. Unlike Edmund's self-made gloves, hers seemed to be doing their job well enough. His hands were already throbbing with every heartbeat.

"Which ones?" he asked, distracted. The sun had moved, but not much. Evening was a long way away and they were making strides. Everything had been quiet so far and the second team had dropped off to sleep the instant they sat down. Edmund figured it was nearing a full day and night cycle since anyone last slept.

"The dogs," She stopped to watch him with hands on her waist, breathing heavily.

"What would you _like_ them to be called?" Edmund pushed a larger rock out of the way and saw a vine hiss at the sudden light only to retract deeper amongst the rubble. They were getting closer.

"Ware-dog?" She looked at her brother for confirmation. Bilfred and one of his men giggled quite unexpectedly from somewhere to the side. Edmund didn't see the humor. Nor did the young Queen. Lucy had laid out the tendons from their kill on an adjacent roof and he realized with a sudden jolt that she was making bowstrings in case any of the others broke.

She was acting with severity Edmund had longed and feared in equal measure since their arrival. She was sacrificing major parts of her character to become strong enough to survive. It wasn't funny in the least.

"Why not just dog, then?" he asked and tossed a smaller rock down the hill behind him, glancing to make sure no one would get hit.

At the bottom of the quarry Hadron picked up the King's discarded stone and turned it over, eyes widening in fear. Edmund and Lucy were both oblivious to it.

"Alright. Dogs." Lucy slammed a stone into a vine that attempted to wriggle away. It smashed with a satisfying squelch. "We threw away the skin," She looked up at her brother and knew in an instant they both had the same thought. It could have been used for shelter, even clothes. She looked in the direction they had been attacked, where they animal most likely still lay. Until night came.

"We could go back," she muttered.

Bilfred caught Edmund's eyes with the same level of seriousness. "Don't tell me you're furriers on top of everything?" Baro asked lightly, having made his way up the hill to join them. He had moved from his own spot to join the king and queen when Hadron caught his eye and nodded towards them.

"And why shouldn't we be?" Lucy asked pointedly. "Is it not _royal_ enough?"

Edmund was about to speak. To defend Baro or his sister, he didn't know. Possibly just to keep the peace. He remained quiet when nothing more came of it. Looked warily from the crown prince to Lucy and noticed her attention was on the work, but that the prince's lingered on _him_.

"What about the things you met in the well?" she asked, completely absorbed in her task.

He wondered how she could move so lightly from one dire thought to the next without effort. " _Ghosts,_ " Edmund said, focusing on moving stones. He shook his hands quickly to hide the tremor. Their throbbing had become a sort of warmth that flowed through him as he loosened his fingers and wrists.

"No..." Lucy drew out. Baro, Bilfred and his man had gone dead silent at their shift in topic.

"Pale shadows," Baro mumbled, his eyes boring into Edmund.

Both siblings stopped. " _Fiends_ ," she said finally, as if someone had given her an answer without speaking.

Edmund glanced over at Bilfred and noticed that the man looked unusually thoughtful. "You're awfully quiet, Master Miner. Anything on your mind?"

He blinked awake and looked at the young king. "I was thinking about the mine, Your Majesty," he said quietly.

"What about it?" Baro asked equally quiet. Using a considerable amount of willpower to look away from Edmund.

Bilfred turned to the mountainside and pointed at the jagged contours. "Well from the looks of those mountains there, it looks to be a series of caves along that ridge _there_ ," He gestured upwards and left to a row of shadowy crevasses none of them had paid much attention to. His gnarled hands radiating strength even when they were covered in leather and relaxed.

Lucy looked upwards, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.

"I was wondering if maybe there were other ways out of here."

"Or openings to where the dogs live," Edmund countered. He didn't like the idea of wandering into unknown darkness where all manner of things might be crawling around. He wasn't keen on hiking into _any_ caves for as long as he lived, but thought it poor taste to say so.

"Would it not be prudent to check?" Bilfred asked, turning to his crown prince.

Edmund looked in the direction he had pointed, but returned to his work. "By all means, be my guest," He was hiding behind the task and so didn't see Bilfred's face falling. "I'd rather stick to the cave I know," he finished with a quick glance at the collapse.

No one commented on his behavior, nor did they need to. He felt guilty enough when he next looked at the master who looked truly repentant for some reason. Edmund didn't quite understand, but felt a little shameful. He tried to think of some way to appease the sudden tension, but couldn't. Decided not to try when Lucy appeared completely indifferent, still focused on her task. He couldn't blame her. It appeared she either took it all in or shut it all out. He should have known that about her, but for some reason it came as a surprise.

On the other hand: They were all tired. Energy was spent on only the most crucial. He just needed to get her home. He wondered if she needed sleep. Might then be she'd wake up as her perky old self instead of the ruined shell of child, as of present. He gazed at her a moment and wondered, before he returned to moving stone.

The silence lasted until the next shift change when Edmund instantly stopped all work at the call from Hadron. The crown prince was right behind him as they headed down, only a step behind. "I believe you should rest a bit, King Edmund?" he said. "You and your sister both."

Edmund glanced up at Lucy and saw she was dismounting the collapsed wall in an exhausted trance. "You might be right," He passed Hadron at the bottom and took a bow and quiver from one of the soldiers who headed up. Neither the crown prince, nor his captain spoke, but followed the young king when he walked over to a vacant watch-post.

Edmund felt tense as he waited for either of them to speak up against him. He felt that he deserved, at the very least, a modicum of trust. He had handled himself quite well so far. He wondered why they were still so reluctant to trust him and felt a brief sting of hurt drown the paranoia.

The boulder the watch used was the one he and Lucy had been stuck on during their first night. He hopped up and looked over the closest structures. The men behind him talked quietly, completely oblivious to the tension in their leaders. As Lucy joined Baro and Hadron at the bottom of the collapse she received a wordless poke by the latter, with an accompanying gesture to her brother's back.

She frowned at the captain, but went to climb up on the stone next to him. She sat down and looked at him a little closer. "Edmund? Come down and sleep," she whispered.

"I'm fine, Lu. You get some rest."

"No."

He looked at her and found her steely gaze focused on his. He sighed. "Lu…"

"No. Edmund," She continued to watch him even as he turned further and saw Hadron and Baro doing the same. She then held out her hand wordlessly.

He was longing to keep watch. To remain alert. All despite the unshakable exhaustion that had been pulling at him for several hours. He needed rest, especially with the work they were doing. Lucy more so. With a relenting sigh he took her hand and followed her off the boulder, but was jerked to a stop when she did. She stared at their interlocked hands in radiant fear. "Edmund," she whispered.

"What?" he asked, suddenly worried that she was feeling unwell. Behind him Baro and Hadron came closer and formed a blockade against prying eyes.

"Oh no, Edmund," she whimpered as tears began to fill her eyes. She looked up at him in betrayal. "Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered as she began loosening his gloves.

He frowned when she released his hand and turned the palm up. Her own was covered in a layer of bright red blood. Edmund's chest coiled tight. "Are you hurt?" He gripped her hand and wiped the red away with careful swipes.

"It's not _mine_ ," she said, accusation dripping from each word. Her betrayal turned to anger as she grabbed his hands and unwrapped the gloves.

He frowned and barely heard the twin gasps behind him. His world narrowed down to the shallow burn-like wounds that mottled strategic corners on his palms. The wounds were seeping clear liquid and blood, saturating his gloves to the point where watery gore rubbed off on anything he gripped too tight. He hadn't noticed. "Lucy," he whispered in abject shock. He looked into her eyes and saw the anger fall away to be replaced by fear again.

"Didn't you feel anything?" she asked in low hiss. Hadron came around to look at them closely.

"More of the men have been getting them," he said with dark eyes on the wounds. "It's goddamn blisters from the work," he bit out. "Queen Lucy, show me your hands."

He reached for them and she offered them up willingly. Baro came closer behind his captain and watched in anguish as her gloves were unwrapped and removed. Red marks from agitated skin was blooming and in one place a low-laid patch of liquid lightened her skin. It was deep enough that it wouldn't burst without additional wear, but it was worrisome all the same. She looked up at Edmund with something like the beginnings of determination in her eyes.

He shook his head half way. "It's fine," Panic welled up inside him, but he forced it down. "I'm fine," If he said it enough he _would_ be.

One, lone tear rolled down Lucy's face and a quivering breath followed as she reclaimed her hands, reaching for his. Carefully so as not to agitate the wounds further. "We need to bind these."

"What do we tell the men?" Hadron asked in a husky voice.

"Nothing."

"We _should_ , Your Majesty," he said quickly with an apologetic look.

Her eyes burned when she glanced at him, but she didn't answer directly. "We need to wash them."

"We can't," Edmund muttered. "I'm fine, Lu,"

"For _now_ ," she spat. They stared at each other and Edmund began to feel the panic he so desperately wanted not to feel.

"They're already inside-"

"Stop," she yipped.

"They are, we both know they are," he babbled in a low pitch.

A large hand came to rest against his back and Hadron's rough voice once again filled his ears. "Easy, Sire. Do you feel anything untoward? Any chills. Fever. Any aches or pains?"

Edmund couldn't help but be soothed by the tone and let loose a slightly less manic laugh. "I'm burnt all over from the sun, I haven't been drinking enough water and on top of it I've been lifting heavy stones all day," He looked straight at the captain. "Yes. To all of the above."

Lucy had gone stoic in the face of his anxiety, it seemed. "You might not _get_ infected if we can bind these quickly enough," she said with a pointed look at the captain.

He nodded and retreated. "What do you need?"

"Clean rags – preferably from a shirt that isn't too soiled. Something that hasn't been exposed to the elements."

"Mine. I wear one under my gambeson," Baro immediately began removing the item, revealing a mother-of-pearl colored shirt beneath. "How much do you need?" he asked even as he pulled it over his head.

"Enough strips to cover the wounds. I don't know," Lucy said, taking the item as she began ripping it.

Hadron glanced towards the men working and those resting. Bilfred had sought them out and was staring in burgeoning unease as the Narnian Queen ripped two strips of fabric from his crown prince's shirt. "Keep shredding it," she said as she handed it over to Hadron and began binding Edmund's wounds personally.

As she wrapped his hands and obscured the blood he began to release some of the fear. His heart began to slow and a mountain of weariness claimed him. He swayed where he stood even as Lucy wrapped line after line around his hands until only the tips of his fingers were visible.

The patches of leather he had used as gloves were wound over the bandages and tied in place by Lucy's decisive hands. She looked up upon finishing the task. "How does that feel?"

He nodded, too tired to speak in the wake of his own panic. It _did_ feel better. The large hand from before came up to guide him back towards the group. It led him down onto someone's jacket where it continued to push him the rest of the way until he was flat on his back. He stared through half open eyes as Lucy curled up beside him and grabbed onto his vest in desperation.

Her breathing was still quick and it sounded as though she was attempting to calm down. His own eyes refused to remain open, but he hoped his muttered words would have an effect. " _Thangkss_ , Lu."

He twisted and folded his arms around her before consciousness slipped away.

* * *

"Binya!" the nymph maiden shouted as she materialized on the deck of the _Ouranios_. Her captain had been speaking to three crewmembers, but jolted and rushed over at her call. Drawing closer with wary eyes on their fellows.

"What have you seen?"

"There is a gathering in front of the castle. I think they mean to breach the wall."

"Can they?"

Méssida looked back towards the narrow haven and up along the trails to the Storm. "It's fortified, but not impenetrable. I've seen larger fall to fewer."

Binya's already grim countenance soured even more. "What else?"

"Ill will has been stirring towards Queen Susan."

" _Blasted_."

"Yes. They're afraid and angry."

"One angry man wouldn't bother me. A mob of angry men bothers me greatly," he grumbled. His arms crossed in front of his barrel-chested self.

"The Queen has left the castle, but the High King still resides within."

He nodded. Pleased to hear news since the Galmian high duke wasn't in much of a sharing mood. "How is the tension among the royals?"

"I never made it inside. I rushed here. Apologies."

The red Dwarf waved off her apology. "But the Queen has taken off?"

"Yes."

"We saw the Gryphons leave from here but thought it to be something else."

Her face saddened at the note of despondency. "The two youngest."

A look of deep sorrow cut across his face before he scowled instead. "Their presence would've been most welcome at this point. They always have a way about them."

The nymph smiled at his fond tone. "The Queen will find them."

Binya froze. "What?"

"I suspect that was her reason for taking flight."

"But the mines are barred."

"Perhaps she's found a different path?"

Binya looked deep into her grey eyes that seemed to almost flicker and swish like morning mists. Eyes that held the timeless beauty of just such a scene despite the brightest sunshine of most ravenous thunderstorms. "Do you think she's found them?"

Méssida glanced back at the island that sat so prettily in its cerulean cradle. "I believe she knows more than we do," She turned back to Binya who had fallen dreadfully pale. "What is it, Captain?"

" _Find_ Oreius," he yipped urgently as he turned and pointed at the _Celestial Halcyon_. "Find him and convey what you just said to me."

"Captain-"

"Just _go_!"

She dissolved in a puff of mist and whistled through the air, across the water. Once at the adjacent ship she vanished among the rigging, certain to complete her task. Binya only hoped it would be soon enough.

* * *

TBC


	16. The Sacrificial Hunt

A/N: So, SO sorry for the long wait. Again. They'll be coming with more frequency now that I've passed my last lingering exam and can continue work on a thesis (which is still a long way out from Judgement Day). The work load is still not panic-inducing and this story has become my Everest. I _will_ defeat it! Thanks to everyone still following and reading. I know I say it a lot, but I really _do_ mean it: I love you :* You keep me motivaed (read: sane).

A/N 2: More Edmund and Lucy in this one. More horror too, I ...think?

* * *

Chapter 16: The Sacrificial Hunt

Edmund awoke far later than he felt comfortable with. To his horror the sun had sunken so far towards the horizon that it must have been equivalent to at least a full day in Narnia. Almost halfway between zenith and the western horizon.

He jerked when he discovered that he was alone. Lucy nowhere near. He looked around, frantically until he spotted her by the small fire they had kept burning to distill liquid from the vines. She was siphoning water into a skin and rose, as he watched, to bring it to him. She saw him sitting up and kneeled next to him.

"Where is everyone?" He answered his own question when he suddenly heard the sounds of men laboring on the collapse. Up the hill. His eyes drifted to them and saw that every man was up there, working to clear it. "What are they doing?"

"They're worried about losing the light so everyone joined in to help," Lucy answered, taking a wanton look around their deserted camp.

She held up the skin for him to drink and he took it in one hand, suddenly remembering his bindings. The reason for his rest. He took stock of himself, as he watched Lucy do the same. "I feel alright," he said in a hoarse voice. He barely tasted the foul liquid as he swallowed a big gulp of it.

"You have a fever," she said in a washed out voice.

"Lu-"

"Don't lie," She took it from him when he was done. "Your eyes are glassy and you kept dreaming about your own laces chasing you," He met her flat eyes and took in the flinty expression. "Fever."

He sighed and supposed he _did_ feel a little warm. He had thought it was the sun, but apparently not. "I'm sorry."

She sighed too. "It's not your fault."

"I should have said something."

"You'll be fine. We'll be out of here before nightfall."

"That's still a long time, Lucy."

"Edmund," she whispered as a tear rolled down her face. She sniffed and clamped her mouth shut against something that would've been a sob. "Please stop," she begged, then swallowed and wiped her eyes with little, trembling hands. "We'll get you home and you'll be fine. We'll get the princes home and they'll be fine too."

He watched her until she looked into his eyes. He nodded, too stunned to speak.

"I have some broth if you think you can eat it?"

He nodded though he felt the first stirrings of a nauseating headache.

"Good," She turned and took a different water skin. This one less full than the other and warm to the touch. "Drink up."

He did at first, stuttering at the harsh flavor, but supposed it could be called "meaty" in a pinch. Oh how he longed for water. The liquid available was a far cry from _any_ kind he'd ever find sating, but thought the broth _did_ have a whisper of a _memory_ of meat. He stopped after two sips and handed it back. "Thanks," he whispered, clearing his throat.

She was kneeling in front of him with her eyes turned downward.

"Lucy-"

"Don't," she said suddenly and pushed to her feet. Striding back to the fire and depositing the skins.

He watched her with a sense of abandonment, but kept quiet. He looked around the sharp sunlight and lay back down to sleep. His skin stretched hot and tight, but a deep cold running through his veins.

* * *

Oreius had never been fond of water, less so of sailing or swimming. Even _bathing_ , as a foal, was a hard won battle for his Mare. He had not matured much since, he grudgingly admitted, as he longed for the green pastures of Home-Narnia. He had received the lovely nymph only moments before and had been reinforced in his decision. The Queen had a knack for finding hidden treasures and no treasure was more hidden at that moment than her own, two siblings.

He smiled serenely into the setting sun.

"When last we spoke you intended to signal the palace watch," Ayel hedged, fully aware that he was interrupting the general in his contemplation. "I assume that meant the _Narnian_ watch?"

"We're far closer than that," Oreius said with a righteous smirk. The way he spoke alluded to an omnipresent "we" and something far beyond what Ayel could understand.

"How so? To whom do you refer?"

The Centaur turned to face the man. "Narnia is not on a patch of land, My Lord. _Narnia_ runs in the veins of every creature that seeks to feel it. It burns and soothes by equal measure."

The duke stared a moment, unsure how to respond. "So you signaled a palace guard?"

"Yes," Oreius said with a full smile that warmed his entire face.

"A palace of Narnia that is _not_ Cair Paravel?"

"Yes."

"To help us fend off Luz Tarkaan?"

"Indeed."

He frowned briefly as he attempted to gather his thoughts. "Might I enquire as to the _name_ of this fabled palace?"

"You might," he granted. The duke waited.

"Well?"

"You might enquire as to the name if such a place as theirs had a true name for you or I to pronounce."

Ayel felt a strange thrill of fear and excitement all at once. "Is it…" Oreius looked at him. "Do you mean… _Aslan's_ home?"

The Centaur let loose a hearty laugh and folded his arms across his giant chest. "No, My Lord," He faced the horizon to the west. The direction he knew his home to be. "No, I refer to the places beneath the surface of the world where you and I might never travel."

A sickening realization came over him. Old tales of hellish caverns where monsters slumbered.

Oreius glanced over and caught his expression. He laughed fully and wholeheartedly. "Be calm, My Lord. The world beneath the surface of ours does not mean what you fear."

"Then _what_?" the duke snapped.

"I speak of Irkalla," The utterance of that name made the duke draw a deep breath in shock. "The City under the Waves."

Both looked back over the ocean with its hypnotizing motions. Appearing calm, yet charged.

"Narnia is more than what She appears," the Centaur continued. "She stretches _far_ beyond the boarders or castle keeps of this place," He gestured back to the island with his head, once more looking down at the man. "It burrows deeper than the deepest cave. Calormen mocks us for our feral nature. Terebinthia has been bereft for so long of its mystical origins that no faith remains. But Narnia _is_ their mother," He turned back to observe the ocean. "Just as it is yours. And _mine_."

* * *

Susan landed with rubbery legs and reached out a hand for balance. Finding Otonoca's soft fur and greedily sinking her fingers into it. She smiled when a kind expression slipped over the creature's face.

Before her was the face of a cliff. Jagged and overrun with mossy patches. Little, yellow flowers dotted it in the settling twilight. Otonoca watched carefully when she let go and took a few steps along the narrow path on which they had landed. It span at length with the mountain, but where Susan wanted to go she would find no footpath. She took a few, searching steps along the narrow trail before she felt a curious sensation, drawing her nearer. Among two fallen rocks was a slender crack in the massive wall. She looked at Otonoca who nodded.

"I can follow," she assured.

Susan bowed and crawled under the rocks. Otonoca flapped her wings once and hopped over, landing on the other side with a thump. Amongst the cliff walls the light was almost completely gone, but Susan had never needed light to find what she was looking for. And the Gryphon had the better eyesight out of the two. "Where does it lead?" she asked as Susan made her way around her.

"I don't know."

She took a tentative step forward and suddenly jolted as though frightened.

"My Queen?" Otonoca sounded hesitant.

"You should go signal Zizi and Manon where to find us. They won't be long to follow."

"And when they come. What will I tell them?"

Susan inhaled, near breathless with excitement. It was a smell, she realized. It _smelled_ like Narnia. "Tell them to bring Peter. Tell them that I've found our siblings."

* * *

Evening came too soon, after several hours of seemingly pointless labor. All stopped as the first, long shadow fell over the quarry. All stopped a moment to stare at the slowly sinking sun, wondering what horrors they would face that night.

An entrance had been made, though a child would be hard pressed to fit an arm inside.

Edmund knew it would take hours before the cavity was wide enough for someone to venture inside and during the night the vines would crawl out and claim everything that moved.

A quietly spoken agreement was reached, to only rest for a few hours and in shifts. To sleep atop a roof with two men, flanking them. Armed with bows and swords. None felt safe and knew better than to fool themselves. Something would come for them and Edmund only hoped it would be something familiar.

As he lay down and looked up at the stars, attempting to curl the jacket around himself and Lucy, he let his mind wander. He ran through Susan and Peter's faces and various laughs. Ran through all the good memories he had of both, as the sun sank lower and the last, stubborn worker returned to sleep. He remembered all their friends and family around the world – the _Narnian_ world, mind you.

He pondered on the nature of night and the fickle sleep that so often declined to follow. At the wise age of thirteen he knew that it was uniquely human, even luxurious, to sleep eight hours every night. He often indulged in more, staying up into wee hours and sleeping well past the forenoon fifth bell, but was loathed to admit that he was worse off for it. He knew that Fauns were slaves to the sun and slept very little in summertime, but very much through winter. He knew Satyrs and Centaurs slept standing up and that Centaurs were slaves to nothing let alone the sun. He knew that Dryads slept the whole winter through. He didn't know if nymphs ever slept at all, but somehow doubted it. Water nymphs maybe when their lakes froze over.

He wondered what kind of creatures had lived _here_. What kind of creatures had adapted to sleeping for almost a week and being awake the same amount of time. They couldn't have been human. For some reason he imagined them as tall and graceful. The buildings and doorways seemed to suggest such.

He wondered what they had believed in.

If Aslan had been _here_ as well, only in another form.

The last shard of sunlight faded and paved the way for stars to blossom above them. There was no moon orbiting this world, but the myriad of stars more than made up for it. He looked up at the hues of light blue and orange as the light slowly vanished completely from the sky. At the budding stars. And he began to feel uneasy.

Lucy had been staring up too, right until her eyes closed in utter exhaustion probably. Within moments she was asleep, peacefully up against him. The sky here was so brilliant and foreign. He didn't recognize a single constellation.

And it wasn't just stars. He hadn't noticed the first night, but magnificent colors painted the heavens as well. A feathery fog of some kind, lit up a belt across the sky like a distant memory of a very different night sky. Magenta, scarlet and bright gold, made fools of themselves as each attempted to outshine the other. It baffled him how a place so savage could hold such beauty.

Despite himself he began to doze. The chilling breeze heralding a cool night. His eyes became heavy and he drifted off to sleep. Awake yet asleep, in some fevered half-world.

How long he hovered in between spaces he did not know, but stayed there until something stirred the back of his mind. A sound, connecting to a memory perhaps? He'd never be able to tell. But from one second to the next he was wide awake with his pulse shooting through him.

He eyes fixed on the dark sky. He twitched to feel for any unwanted touches of vines nipping at his bare skin and palpated Lucy as well, but there were none. Their centurions had been joined by two more, Escar among them, Edmund spotted. The fires were burning to keep the vines at bay and the stars looked the same.

He couldn't have slept for more than thirty minutes and nothing seemed amiss, but _something_ had woken him.

He laid awake in silence, listening to the sounds of sleeping humans. Ignoring all other senses except sound. There was nothing but the breeze, which whistled among the empty town squares and vacant homes, and the sounds of light snoring to accompany it. Several minutes ticked by and he began to wonder if it had been a trick. If the wind had curved against a wall to create the illusion of a whisper and if _that_ was what woke him. He decided to make an effort to sleep, lamenting the slight fever from his ongoing sunburn.

When it came again.

The faintest of sounds. At a distance. He jerked, still prostrate on the ground, eyes open, and afraid to move. Afraid to acknowledge his own waking state lest his unease be proven right. For a mere second he closed his eyes and sent a fervent prayer that it was only the wind. _Please Aslan…_

Another whisper rose on the coattails of a breeze, this time a little sharper amidst the silence, almost in reply to the first. Different from it. Only accentuated by the bare walls, he realized, not _created_. Sounds of a near ethereal shift of gravel amidst all the others. Someone closer to the fire spoke softly to pass the time, but it felt as though they were all behind Edmund. Closer to the flames.

This noise had come from beyond his feet, in the dark.

He stared into the strange stars, waiting for something to happen, something out of order, something to either confirm or allay his fear.

A _swoosh_ of loose gravel was his bell. It fell outside all other noise and sparked an absolute certainty that something was _there_. The men behind him slept or talked, unprovoked by whatever Edmund was hearing.

But it was _something_. The guards had yet to see or hear it so it moved with frightful stealth.

He turned his head when a single _click_ of a clawed toe came from somewhere in the darkness. Lucy was on his right, between himself and a fire. Beyond his toes was nothing but darkness.

He stared into the night and saw petrified shadows against the night sky from the doorways and windows. Nothing moved, until suddenly one did. A shift of grey against grey.

 _But it's a shift of one of the ash vines, Edmund. Go back to sleep_. A dot in his eye from glancing into the fire.

Another shift in a deep shadow. There but for a trick of his mind.

A blue silhouette against the starlit sky suddenly stuck out on a roof, three blocks away and was gone before Edmund could react. It was big. Bigger than the dogs. But it _wasn't_ a monster. _It's honestly just your imagination, Edmund_ , Jadis' voice taunted him, implored him.

He couldn't take his wide eyes from it. Couldn't blink even as they watered.

His breath stuck in his throat and a burning rose in every inch of muscle. "Lucy. Wake up," he croaked hoarsely. It took a direct order to provoke any movement at all, but he squeezed together two fingers and pinched her, frustrated when she made a disgruntled noise, but failed to wake. She attempted to twist away, but couldn't, caught in his arm.

"I dun _wan't_ yellow flowers-"

"Lucy," His mutter became a bit more commanding. _Quivering_. He reached down for his sword and raised it from its sheath with a _zing_. Not freeing it fully, but ready. The sound registered with the guards, who looked towards the young royals. Unseen by Edmund Escar flagged Hadron and the two moved closer to inspect.

"King Edmund," came the quiet call. For a split second he wondered how to handle it. His initial reaction was, as pitiful as it seemed, to scream. To alert the entire camp that an enemy was upon them, but he found to his horror that he was paralyzed in a near panic. _And you're not sure, are you, Eddykins?_

"King Edmund, are you alright?" Hadron asked as a warm hand attached itself to his shoulder.

Lucy woke then with an intake of breath. Edmund steeled himself with a deep breath and sat up, freeing his sword fully. "Is it his fever?" Escar asked quietly, looking wearily at the boy-king's sword.

Lucy too, had withdrawn, but her small hand came to rest against his neck. "Maybe," she whispered, still groggy from sleep. Certain in her knowledge that Edmund would not harm her.

He moved to a crouch and watched another shadow move among the rest. "Edmund, I need you to tell me where it hurts?" she implored. "Ed?" She glanced out at the darkness with a frown, but too quickly back at him.

His eyes were fixed on the darkness. "I saw something," he confessed in a quivering voice. His fingers felt like ice.

Three sets of eyes turned at once to look into the darkness as well. "Do you see anything?" Escar asked the three of them.

"There were shadows," Edmund admitted breathlessly.

Lucy's focus returned to him. "Oh, Edmund."

Tears had begun to fall from his eyes. "Something's _out_ there, Lu," he trembled.

"It might very well be," Hadron agreed in a low, dangerous voice.

"What did you see, King Edmund?" Escar asked again.

"Shadows," he whispered.

Something in Lucy's face changed. Going from concern to determination. "Like in the well?"

"Queen Lucy?" Escar asked.

"Go wake the men," Hadron ordered. His weathered face was turned towards the darkness and he had gripped the pommel of his blade tightly.

The prince spent a moment in doubt, watching the three of them before he turned and began rousing the men with a low, urgent voice.

"Quietly," Hadron muttered as some of them rebelled against the wakeup call.

Edmund's breath was hitching in a too-tight chest. "I'm not insane."

"No one thinks so," Hadron fired off in that same, dangerous tone.

"I'm not sick,"

"That's debatable," Lucy said, but her eyes were on the plateau of rooftops same as the others'.

"Do you have a weapon?" he asked her suddenly.

"My knives."

The Captain seemed surprised to hear it. "You need a sword," Edmund said with steel in his voice.

"King Edmund, is that wise?"

"No," he allowed. "You need a bow," he amended. She was proficient with a bastard blade, but doubted she could wield any of the soldiers' heavy longswords. He had seen her practicing with smaller xiphoi and daggers. She didn't know he had seen her. A new sword had been his next birthday present to her.

"I can get her a bow," Hadron finally agreed and backed away from his spot. Eyes affixed on the blue night. Before he could withdraw fully there came a quick chitter a ways out.

 _They're talking_. Edmund's breath left him in a _whoosh_. "Everyone up," he exhaled, trying to keep his shaking under control. Escar had tapped the soldiers and miners awake.

"Everyone. On your feet _now_ ," Hadron barked in his deepest voice, never taking his eyes from the darkness. Several were still rubbing sleep from their eyes, but all complied when surprised by his brusque order.

Suddenly something seemed to snap the tension. From all around them came one scream after another in quick succession and served to shock off the dredges of sleep off the very last man.

"Escar!" Baro called nervously, but was soothed instantly by his brother's hand on his shoulder. A frown cut across his face. "You screamed," he muttered.

"Everyone, _stay_ by the fire," Hadron ordered. His nearly black eyes were trained on their surroundings.

Sounds of confusion ebbed out among the men and silence took over. Lucy received a bow from Gedeminas who took up watch at her and Edmund's side.

"Seize your weapons and keep your backs to the fire," the commander instructed.

Edmund became aware of men asking what was going on, but Hadron ignored them. The shadows clicked and hissed, and intermittent, throaty purrs sounded horrifyingly close.

" _Zezeourpons ndkeepourbkstoefirer_ ," a voice in the darkness growled. It was almost a perfect match to Hadron's own except for a slightly lighter pitch. It was the tone of it that shocked Edmund, the command in nonsensical words sounded like a bastardized human tongue.

Howls of shock came from some of the men behind the as they too caught glimpses of whatever was in the darkness. It was getting bolder. Lucy had withdrawn half a step behind him, soundlessly slipped on the quiver staring fixedly into the darkness as she waited. She drew an arrow. "Lucy, string it," he breathed and heard her do so.

He knew she could use it. As good as – _or better than_ – the men. She had trained with Susan after all.

"What is it?" Baro called, looking between the night and his younger brother.

"The things from the well," Hadron answered coming to stand behind Edmund and Lucy once more. "Seize your sword, Sire," he said to the crown prince. Edmund had the insane notion that Hadron would probably save them all.

"King Edmund, what did you _see_?" Escar demanded.

The shadows were careful to stay just outside the light. "Nothing. But I hear them," Waiting for an opportune moment. They were smart.

"We all do," Hadron agreed.

"Do you think they'll attack?" one of the men called nervously.

"We don't know what they _are_ ," Hadron snapped.

"Edmund?" Lucy questioned, a slight quiver to her voice. He heard the sound of the string squeaking as she flexed it. She had caught something in the dark and wanted to take the shot.

"Not yet, Lu."

" _Edmnnd_ ," came a throaty purr that sounded far too much like Lucy's for his liking. Questioning.

"They're emulating us," Escar whispered into the night in horrified realization.

Edmund didn't dare turn and look, but knew he would find an expression of pure terror. He ground his jaw tight and tensed the grip on his sword when more shadows moved came to life. They were still at a distance, but their loping gaits belied a great speed, if luck continued to act against them. They had come up through the empty houses, he realized. Onto the roofs.

Summoning a considerable amount of experience in irregular warfare, even at the tender age of thirteen, Edmund pursed his lips and whistled experimentally. A flat note at first. It was picked up by several of their tormentors effortlessly and echoed among them like a game.

"What are you doing?" Baro hissed.

" _Wataroudoung_ ," a voice from the darkness demanded in the same, frantic hiss. It failed to match Baro's pitch, but the emotion was flawless. A shiver rippled down Edmund's spine.

"I have it," Lucy muttered too low for most, but Gedeminas, Hadron and Edmund to hear.

"Keep it ready," he muttered back. So low he wondered if she even heard.

" _Wataraudoi_ ," one of them demanded in a near scream. One, almost human.

Edmund didn't know why, but he whistled again. This time adding three notes to the trill. Once again they were picked up and echoed effortlessly. Far more easily than the way they imitated their voices. "I count three ahead," he muttered. He knew he had Lucy, Gedeminas and Hadron immediately behind him and three others close by _them_.

A silence fell between the humans while the creatures seemed to get more and more agitated. " _Shite_ ," Hadron cursed.

Someone from the opposite side of the campfire whistled like Edmund. "More over here," the soldier called out. "I think… five or six."

"Edmund, what are they doing?" Something malicious had snuck into Lucy's tone. A kind of anger he had never heard her use before, alas did not know she possessed.

They all saw it. Silhouettes that darted across their neighboring roofs under the starlight, but made sure to stay out of the reach of the light. "I think-I think they're afraid of the fire," he called out. Suddenly it all clicked in his mind. Their fear of light was why they stayed underground. Why they hadn't come near him in the well.

"How do your Majesties suggest we fight them?" Hadron asked them both, perhaps all the royals in tandem. His voice carefully controlled though a current of fear was racing through him.

Edmund's eyes roamed over shapes he could hardly see, reacting to sounds he had never before heard. Watched as the fiends yelped louder and louder, riling themselves other up for a hunt. Like wolves. "How many have bows in their hands?" he called out without looking back.

"I do."

"Aye."

"Three over here."

"I suggest you each find a target, and fire all at once," he muttered to Hadron. A second passed. He glanced back at Lucy, catching her eye, before turning back to the threat. "Do you see _that_ one?" he asked, almost breathlessly, and pointed to one of the closest creatures.

It was the closest of all, so close that all could now clearly hear its' even breaths and the clank of several dark shapes hanging from its head, dangling in the dark against his white skin. It carried in its hand something that might've been a spear.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Kill _that_ one," he whispered back.

"Go ahead," Baro whispered. Probably to the captain.

"I have a target," a soldier called.

"Here as well."

"And here."

Three more times they called out. "I have one as well," Lucy called in her very bravest of voices and Edmund couldn't help the thrill that sped through him.

"On my order!" Hadron barked. At his sudden shout, a ripple went through the fiends, and yelps and clicks lit up the night. Shrieks.

Edmund waited for the moment when the one in Lucy's sights settled. " _Now_ , Lucy."

He barely spoke before her arrow flew. Swift whooshes clipped the air in a crescent surge around Edmund, Hadron and Lucy, and the creatures screamed in confusion. One in particular. He bared his teeth in a deep breath when he saw his sister had hit it in the eye.

"Hold," Hadron bellowed as three men surged forward to meet those of the creatures that had crumbled. But all were all too slow as one of the creatures emitted a hoarse roar, anger rippling the edges of its mouth. "Levy!" Hadron cried, but with no effect.

The three archers kneeled to fire a volley at close range, but with one swipe of a clawed hand a spray of blood exploded across the roof and the three men fell as one.

The creature, dangling objects hanging from folds of its skin, postured just beyond range of the fire. "Men, HOLD!" Hadron bellowed again when it took a step nearer and picked up Hadron's Second by the man's chin. Behind it the other creatures were feeling back into the darkness, but that lone fiend stared into Hadron's eyes as it squeezed around the human head. Levy screamed as his skull cracked and every muscle in him went limp. The white fiend watched them and scoffed before it whirled on a dime and vanished into one of the rooftop openings.

Edmund was panting. It appeared that scaring them had been enough for now and it was only their shock that stopped them all from bursting headfirst into the night in foolish pursuit. "Stay within the light!" someone else shouted.

Edmund quickly obeyed, drawing Lucy back with him. Her darkened eyes were still fixed in the distance and she had a second arrow at the ready, but didn't fire. Men poured vines onto the fires to build a hearty flame.

"We need to establish a perimeter," Escar called. Edmund turned in surprise and no small relief at the unexpected sound of his voice. He thought surely the prince would forget his mind from shock. When the two crossed glances the young king nodded his way and found it returned.

Lucy was still at the ready until Edmund pulled her back, only to find himself encompassed in a hug the second Hadron stepped between them and the wilderness. His breathing was coming in short bursts from the rush and he kept looking out over his sister's shoulders for anymore monsters. Could come rushing out of and opening, too swiftly for him to counter.

Hadron stayed between the king and queen, and the darkness but barked orders out to his remaining men. "I want fires at every corner of this roof and along the sides as well," People were already pulling more vines from the bundles they had collected earlier, expending resources to keep the fires blazing. "No one sleeps," he ordered as he kept his eyes trained away from the light.

* * *

TBC


	17. The Maze

_Mallo belongs to elecktrum. I call her 'satrap', elecktrum calls her 'chieftainess' (which is actually way cooler), but a rose is a rose by any other name and so is a badass_. _Thank you for creating her so that I might play_.

* * *

Chapter 17: The Maze

Unrest had erupted as citizens of Eion lay siege against the palace gates. Lights were dimmed and the royal family were tucked away, Hilio included. Peter wondered if the prince might find his way out of the castle if the unrest came to blows, but doubted it. Between himself and his trackers there was not too many places the prince could hide if he decided to run. Besides that, Peter doubted very much the prince _would_ run.

His head jerked up at a loud bang against the palace gates, echoing through bare halls and through thick walls. Enhanced by the sparse décor. Guards were shouting into the crowds from atop the walls, calling for order as buckets of ice water were regularly hurled over the edge in an effort to deter. He breathed a deep sigh and looked around at his compatriots. Connie was curled up flush against his feet as she watched and listened to the unrest, large ears tipping to follow the echoes. Her body functioning as a heater against his legs. She appeared at ease, but he knew her to react as swiftly as any.

At a second bang amidst a chorus of shouts he exhaled and stood up. As predicted Connie was instantly on her feet, followed closely by every other Narnian in the room. He looked at them and knew he radiated a strange form of weariness.

In truth, he had fallen into an uncanny silence after his confrontation with Baskar and Hilio. One that greatly unnerved the Terebinthians far more than his Narnians, perhaps for the sole reason that it was not an uncommon event.

They had waited patiently around him in the silence that followed, trusting him to make an informed decision. It struck him how loathed he was to make any decision at all when he stood to make it alone.

Celer's troop had joined Peter's in silent companionship. They stood as well, waiting for their king's next action. Peter had sent word to the _Halcyon_. Asking for patience and as much delay as they could cause the Calormenes. He knew gold flecked ships would soon appear on the horizon and trusted Oreius to handle things at sea.

A breathless soldier suddenly burst into the room, practically tripping in his haste. The man panted and nervously fixed his disheveled armor as he addressed the king. "Sire," he groaned and offered an uncoordinated bow.

Peter watched as the man gathered his thoughts.

"Eagles- Eagles have landed," he panted with a clumsy gesture to someplace behind him.

Peter ticked into action, jogging from the room with his harrowed guard in pursuit. All manner of feet, hooves, and paws added a comical element to counter the looming threat outside the gates. The bangs echoing against the gates like drums of war. He met more soldiers standing at the ready along his path. "Where?" They pointed him in the right direction until he hurled into the secluded, second courtyard of the Storm. Queen Hira and her ladies in waiting had conversed timidly with five mighty Eagles that bobbed their heads respectfully at each reply. Politely ignoring the sounds of unrest outside the castle.

"Donn," Peter called as he exited. The ladies of court all turned to look at him as he spoke. All fell silent.

"Sire," he said with a bob. "We received word on the Queen."

"Where is she?"

"It is our belief that two of your Gryphons will soon return with details on her whereabouts. They flew east."

"Three of them, yes."

"We believe one remains to guard her."

Peter frowned and wondered what she could possibly be doing there. He glanced at Bacchus, but stopped when he caught Celer's guilty expression. "Captain," he called.

The Faun almost jerked at the direct address, but looked to his king dutifully.

"Do you know why she fled?"

The Faun swallowed, but nodded. "I do, Sire," The Faun was, as many of his kin, of a nervous disposition.

"Then tell me."

"I believe she _knows_ , Sire."

"Knows what?"

"Where your siblings are to be found," he admitted at length. He looked as though he ached to wring his hands in worry, but maintained himself.

Peter's breath eased out at the words, instinctively trusting them to be true. "How would she know that?" he whispered, though most of the gathered heard.

Celer swallowed nervously again. "The same way I suspect she knew to close the mine, Sire."

Peter's heart fell at the thought, but he admitted the possibility. She had always _known_. Since coming to Narnia there was not much that could be hidden from her, least of all a secret. He nodded, head turned down. "Alright," he whispered and looked directly at Queen Hira. "Might I speak with your husband?"

The queen made an aborted attempt to retreat, but paused to nod. A look of uncertainty slipped over her face, but she seemed determined to not question.

During the course of mere hours the tension in the castle keep had gone from hostile, to strained, to uneasy as the crowds gathered and grew outside. Peter had refused to bow under it, but he feared the king and queen might have fared differently. As she hurried off with her ladies in waiting he felt confirmed in that belief. It struck him ironic that the perfect person to ease their tension would have been Susan.

* * *

A few hours passed where Peter alternated between relief and frustration at the king's deliberate unavailability. He'd taken to pacing. The crowds outside continued to grow and soldiers rallied behind the gates, awaiting the worst possible outcome despite repeated attempts at diffusing the growing anger. When Peter was finally admitted into the king's presence he had to remind himself to not act rashly. The Eagles had been correct in their assumptions. The Gryphons, Manon and Zizi had returned with thrilling news. The implications were as horrific as they were thrilling and he was thrumming with energy just waiting to be released.

"How may I assist, Sire?" Baskar asked with a cautious air about him. His son had followed in his parents' wake. Silent and crestfallen. Pale, nearly grey. His aunt Llithus had an arm around his shoulder.

Peter studied them all three and vowed to put the young man at ease before he departed. "News has come to me about my Sister's actions," he said, and noticed the way Hilio's eyes snapped up. "I understand more now," he promised the room in general and the young man discretely. Hilio's guilt eased from his shoulders a little. "As I will surely understand more on the eve of this visit, but for now I'm forced to act with the knowledge at hand."

He glanced in the direction he knew the ocean to be, before he turned back to Baskar. "A handful of Calormene warships are on approach, as confirmed by King Lune and the Galmian naval watch. They come for one purpose only, but I fail to understand the cause of their departure," He looked closely at Baskar. "I take it you know little of their intentions as well?"

The king shook his head. "I knew not of their arrival until you informed me, Your Majesty."

Peter nodded. "I believe you," he said and began pacing again. "Not long ago two Gryphons returned from your east coast," He thought carefully on how to phrase his next action to the king. "My Sister requires time and I intend to give it to her," He looked up and found all royals riveted.

Among his men it was only the Fauns, Helios, and Hydox-the-dryad with her hair made of tawny sticks, auburn leaves and red berries, left. The four Animals of Narnia, a Panther, a Tiger, an Ocelot, and a Hyena, had been spirited away. Departed in the claws and on the backs of Gryphons and Eagles. "Word has reached me of support from an old ally so my concern is not with the Calormenes. They'll crash against your shores like waves against stone."

Baskar frowned, but didn't comment on what Peter knew would be conceived as arrogance. He prided himself on his trust in others, but admitted in the same stroke of thought to have very little towards the king of Terebinthia. If trust had ever been it was most certainly gone in the wake of recent events.

"Whatever we can offer, you will have at your disposal," the king said eventually.

Peter almost smiled, drawing a deep breath as he looked around the room. "I need your soldiers."

* * *

Edmund had decided to lose his focus when tears began filling his eyes every thirty seconds from staring into the dark. A deep shiver left him colder as he remembered the dark shapes that had skittered away across the rooftops. No sounds had interrupted them since, but that fact only made him more nervous. They were intelligent and the most dangerous hunters were the silent ones.

He stared vacantly the way General Oreius had taught, when scouting for movements against the brush or in the forest at night. It worked as his eye caught a movement and tracked it. It lingered a ways out and seemed to be holding. A scout, he assumed, if the fiends were clever enough for such a thing.

He clanged his sword against the gravel as a brief signal to the others. They had decided on that since the fiends might be less likely to imitate it. One for threat. Two for attack. Gedeminas and a worker, armed with a pick-axe, slipped down next to him and took up sentry without a word.

His fever was now ravaging its way through him, making him shiver uncontrollably one moment and sweat furiously the next. On top it felt as though pneumonia was setting in. Either that or a severe chest cold. Neither prospect thrilled him.

He looked up at Gedeminas. "We should leave."

The fellow with the axe glanced over. "He's right. They're surrounding us."

"What do you suggest?" Edmund asked them both and noticed the way the strawberry blonde soldier's eyelids fluttered when he looked across the roof at Hadron. He was a wiry fellow, but filled with a sort of charged intensity.

"I don't know, King Edmund. Make torches and flee, perhaps. They obviously see us whether we light their way or not, and I reckon there's enough light from the stars and the buildings to guide our steps, but the vines aren't afraid of starlight," The sheer volume of words, not counting the content, surprised Edmund who raised his eyebrows a little.

"Sounds reasonable," he whispered back. None of them made moves to leave though, not wanting to risk working on the mine and not sure if they could find a better defensive post. Hiding was not an option as far as Hadron was concerned. The creatures lived, ate, and fornicated in pitch black. Quivering under an overhang would do nothing but kill them all. If not by the animals then by bloody _plants_.

"Where would we go?" Edmund asked. He felt a strange detachment and blamed the fever. Knew he sounded off, but had little inclination to correct it.

"The caves?" the miner suggested with a glance over. Typhos was his name, Edmund rather abruptly remembered. Huge and bald. Hands the size of Christmas Hams and skin as coarse as the back of a beast of burden.

Gedeminas looked down in thought. "It was nearly excavated," In comparison the soldier looked rather young.

"There's only one entrance and it's easily defensible," Edmund continued, not as bothered by the thought of hiding under ground when the alternative was having his skull caved in. A memory of the beast flashed before his mind with the way brain-matter had splattered over its clawed hands. Before the act he had not been sure of their intelligence, but in its wake it replayed to him like spite. Killing three archers as revenge for killing their leader.

"Do you really think we can outrun them?" Typhos asked.

"We can use the darkness to our advantage," Edmund said.

" _How_ ," Gedeminas reestablished. "We're at a disadvantage. They can see in the dark."

Edmund's eyes drifted to the veritable labyrinth, laid out below them. There was less than a mile back to the cave and even though it would need to be opened a bit wider, possibly cleared of a few pesky vines, it still seemed like the far safer option. And to do it they would have no choice but to go through the labyrinthine streets. "Yes, but I bet they can't see through walls," he said lightly.

When the two turned to stare at him incredulously, he simply smiled.

* * *

Waves beat ceaselessly against the eastern coast of Terebinthia. In the dark they almost reminded Susan of home. "Queen Susan, I wish you would wait," Otonoca said nervously with a glance up at the sky. It was now completely dark.

"I _am_ waiting," she established even as she ventured a step deeper into the small cliff-side opening. She had found it without hardly looking.

"I sense your actions abandon your words, My Queen," The Gryphon said dryly.

From inside the little, black opening Susan let out a bubbling laugh. "You worry too much," It bounced between the walls.

"I worry a fitting amount, My Queen."

Another light laugh. It felt to the Gryphon as though Susan had lightened in spirit since departing from the Storm and for that reason alone Otonoca was reluctant to pass judgement. To simply follow wherever she might lead.

"Zizi and Manon will return soon," Susan said absently.

"And hopefully with a few helping hands," She looked down at her clawed toes that were too big for the delicate task of peeling away rubble and too fragile to help move the larger stones. Gryphons, like Birds, were built of hollow bones to allow for easy flight. Otonoca had never hated her speed more and would gladly have sacrificed it for the chance to be of assistance.

"I _hear_ you worrying," Susan challenged.

"It is my prerogative, Your Majesty."

Susan scoffed, but did so lightly. A moment later she crawled back out of the small nook and straightened her back. Dirt was smudged across her face. "Alright then," she sighed. "I'll wait for a bit," Far too gracious to ever comment, Susan felt an inching suspicion that her guard might just be the slightest bit uneasy amongst the dark cliff-walls.

"How are you so certain," Otonoca asked with a sharp tilt of her eagle-like head. The twinkling stars caught in her eyes even as she tried to look into the earthy darkness. It was hopeless, because even her sharp gaze saw nothing but shadow.

Susan shrugged as she brushed a bit of dirt off her dress, ignorant of the dirt on her face. She looked up at the stars that now sparkled delightfully and inhaled through her nose. "It smells like home doesn't it?" she moaned.

Otonoca sniffed cautiously, but smelled nothing beside the smells she had since arriving. Soil and sea. "I trust in your Royal nose, Your Majesty."

Susan giggled, but fell silent when three chirps echoed in the night. Otonoca immediately mimicked the sound, making her neck bulge as she let out the high-pitched chirp. Black wings cut across the star-dappled sky like the ferocious predators they were. Susan felt only hopeful. When she looked at Otonoca, she smiled fully. "Let's start digging."

* * *

Edmund was a little worried that he was not _more_ worried. It was plain as day that one or more creatures were watching them, but all seemed decidedly ignorant about it. Or at least unwilling to speak of it, only acknowledging their presence with long glares across the wasteland. "They'd rather see us leave," Escar muttered from his position by the roof's edge. He had not fallen into his confrontational ways since their departure from the carnage and Edmund felt relieved for it.

"So?" he asked. He was sweating and his stomach felt tense and distended. Lucy was watching him in increasingly raw fear.

"Perhaps they'd become wise to our plan as we executed it," the prince bit out.

"Do you think they're clever enough?" Bilfred asked. His voice had gone gravelly since they had been attacked a second time. Edmund suspected it was because he wasn't drinking. Trying to save water for the rest of them.

"I think I would rather not underestimate them," the soldier-prince corrected with somber eyes out over the dark blue vista. "Blasted night," he hissed.

Edmund nodded, agreeing in thought. Lucy surprised him by placing a hand on his shoulder. "Edmund, come with me please," she whispered. She helped him to his feet and led him to a fire near the center of the roof. The men were gathered loosely around its edges, all facing away from the flames. He sat where she pointed him, right in front of the fire. It warmed his face and starkly reminded him how cool it had gotten. Then, in a cruel twist, his stomach knotted and his headache upped a notch. Lucy watched him through exhausted eyes.

"Will you lift up your shirt for me, please?" she whispered. She sounded dead to the world, but he only had a moment to consider her tone before it changed again. "Oh God," To heartbreak.

He looked past her hands, that held up the tunic, to his belly. It was slightly distended and lines of dirt traveled up and down in organic patterns. It was only when her next inhalewas followed by a tear that he took a second look.

It was not dirt he realized. They were his veins. Like branches of a wilted tree or a lightning scar across a wall. Like the threads that connected massive mushroom-groves deep in the Western Wild. His veins were dark blue against pale skin. Too pale. He looked closely and felt a strange absence of fear. "Huh," he muttered.

Lucy hiccupped and when he next looked at her she was crying openly, but near silently.

Hadron noticed though. As had Escar and Bilfred if the sudden tension across the open space was any indication. None of them reacted by more than a glance before they refocused on the dark night. The master miner subtly wiping a tear from his cheek. Escar placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Edmund, I don't know if I can fix this," she whimpered and looked at him with teary eyes. She was shivering.

He breathed in her fear and dropped the shirt to cover up the ugly truth, reaching out to run his hand down her face. There were no words to aptly describe their state. No words of comfort and no jokes to push away the madness of it.

"What are w-we going to _do_?" she whimpered and brought both hands to her face.

He stroked her cheek, relishing the warmth he found there. Only starting to realize how cold he had really become. "We'll get home," he whispered. "We'll get you home."

She let out another hiccup, jolting forward to hide her face in his shoulder. Her little hands reached up to grab his clothes in desperation. And suddenly a found that sliver of fear; of humanity, as his heart fractured a bit. To be the source of her pain was never what he would've wished for. Was the one thing he would've done almost anything to avoid. He drew her closer and let her hide in his shoulder as her sobs grew in intensity.

"I promise, Lucy," he whispered "I _promise_ ," as her fear became his own.

* * *

Night had fallen over the crescent cove as Oreius watched. He had been steadfast in his portside position on the _Halcyon_ , marvelling at how the light never fully left the northern horizon. The _Ouranios_ had been alerted to his decision, Binya more specifically. A trusted friend of the court. The Dwarf had replied in kind by raising a white flag with a blue cross.

All were ready to begin, in the still night.

And, as though summoned by thought, _they_ arrived.

Their presence hardly felt, but for a brief interruption of the mesmerizing waves that beat against all things. One swell that rocked every ship but once before it tapered off, seemingly losing itself to the current once more.

Ayel had been gotten increasingly nervous and had resorted to biting his fingernails. "Should we not send for the Gryphons?" he fretted. He had heard of their courage during the last battle with Jadis and lamented their absence, heardly noticing the slight interruption to the ship's movements.

Oreius smiled, feral and wild. "There is no need," he said in a deep, calm voice. "Mallo is here."

* * *

TBC

Thank you to everyone following and reviewing :* Love you guys!


	18. Bosom of the Sea

_A/N: Hi guys! Somber Squirrel remarked that Edmund's condition, when explained to a third party, was reminiscent of pregnancy. This tickled me a bit so to it I say: Well they are both, in theory, parasites. One, albeit far more accommodating and desired than the other._

 _Other than that I'm really sorry to have taken my sweet time with this - The length of this chapter hopefully makes up for it - also that I'm really hoping I won't keep you waiting as long for the next one!_

 _And again, mind the genre: Phi is not doing so hot. Like at all. Well neither is Edmund, really. Well... none of them are, really.  
_

* * *

Chapter 18: Bosom of the Sea

"King Peter," Hilio called in a subdued voice. The silence inside the castle walls was countered ferociously by the riots outside.

Peter paused his retreat from the throne room, keenly aware that he was now left with only one guard. Torches flickered along the walls, casting them all in a soft glow.

"I've come to ask permission from you."

Peter glanced at Helios who shook his head before he too looked to the prince.

"I wish to depart east," the young prince said in clarification.

Understanding rushed out in a deep exhale. "To join my sister."

Hilio nodded and looked down. Peter studied him a bit more closely. "If this is to atone…"

The prince immediately shook his head. "I know I cannot be pardoned for my actions. I merely wish to help, Sire."

Peter glanced at his Galmian officer once more. The man offered a little smile, so quick it went unnoticed by the prince, but Peter felt a soft warmth spread through him. "Your help is appreciated, Prince Hilio of Eion," He turned to make for the outer court yard. "Be sure the crowds don't see you leave."

With a timid smile the prince jolted into action and departed.

* * *

Calormene vessels rolled into the shallow waters like feral wolves sneaking up on sleeping cattle. Bold colors sailed on every ship, but none more splendid than Luz Tarkaan's own, bejeweled in shimmering leaf-gold, silvery thread and ruby red. "Ready the archers," Oreius calmly ordered. The smile had not left his face since a change in the wind that very night. Dawn was arriving slowly and with it a row of sparkling ships born to do combat. They lay heavily in the water with many men and artillery on board, but the Narnian general worried not. His flank quivered occasionally when a stray breeze touched a hair on his pelt, but his tail never stirred except for the barest of twitches.

All around him the men and women of Galma fretted, but scattered among each ship hand was a grinning Narnian to fracture the morose image. Ayel could not remember having ever seen a likeness in madness before, especially not when faced with a force such as the Calormene navy.

"If they board us…"

"They never will," Oreius promised. He stood, with one hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword and a cup of tea in the other.

Ayel spared the general a look of disbelief, but held his words. Retreating back to run trembling hands through his hair.

"Do I have the bridge?" Oreius asked with a glance down. His broadsword hung heavily at his side where it would remain a little longer.

Ayel nodded and detached from his fretting. "Aye."

" _All hands_!" the Centaur bellowed without pause. "Ready."

There was a chorus of bows strung and spears readied, but not a single soldier fired or threw. And Oreius held his order to release with yet another smile, this one baring the edges of his canines. "Your Majesty," he muttered low in his throat to the presence that lurked beneath the charged ocean. "Your move."

And there fell across the surface a deep silence followed by a gentle ripple almost as though from a beginning swell. Such a horrific quiet that many aboard the Calormene ships cried out in trepidation, questioning superior officers though none had any answers to give. Their vessels jolted in the currents and sails snapped taut as the ships were forcibly angled away from shore, against the wind.

Under water many dark shapes shoot, like darts, towards the flanks of the Calormene ships, though not a single body bobbed above water. " _Watch_ , Ayel-Maeon Tal," Oreius called as he sipped his tea.

The ship closest to the _Celestial_ _Halcyon_ was jolted as though struck by something massive below the surface. More cries of unease or downright fear filled the air. A Calormene order to fire echoed across the cove. "Take cover," Oreius yelled, though he made no move to do so himself, instead taking another sip.

A volley was released just as another shove jolted the Calormene ship even farther about. Out of three dozen arrows only one hit the flank of the _Halcyon_. The rest were swallowed by the waves that now began to writhe in strength. A furious roar bubbled deep below in answer to the arrows and a loud tearing filled the cove. With a sudden dip the Calormene ship lurched to its side and a bubble of air ballooned out below the waves, boiling to the surface as dense, white foam. Men fell overboard with screams of fear, into water that frothed with rage.

Inhuman, high pitched screeches joined the humans'. The area around the Calormene ship bubbled and boiled in such hissing vehemence, but only in a few yards circumference as it continued to sway on its axis, tipping deeper with each time. With each shove from something unseen.

Oreius cradled his cup and smiled to himself, quite pleased by the strength of their allies. He watched the invading ship dip one last time before it was tilted too far and simply fell. The mast broke like a twig and the waters around it exploded in a furious frenzy, like piranhas in a feeding frenzy. Men were ripped overboard by pale, snarling warriors; baring furious screams. "What _is_ this?" Ayel exclaimed in utter shock.

"This is _Narnia_ , High Duke," Oreius calmly replied with a glance back. "Is She not as I promised?" Another cracking heralded the rapid sinking of the ship. Men attempted to swim away, but most were caught, grabbed by their arms and legs, before they were mercilessly dragged down.

Only a handful was allowed to escape. The youngest among their enemy.

They fled to the closest ships and were hauled aboard, screaming or crying in fear. "What is this?" Ayel asked again, watching with his mouth open at the ebbing chaos.

"Mallo commands all within the bosom of the sea," Oreius said as Ayel spotted one Calormen man with a chunk of flesh taken from his side. "Be they kin or no."

"Mermaids," Ayel breathed. Summoning to mind images of fair maidens who turned to monsters under water. Luring sailors to their deaths with promises of an eternal kiss.

"Hardly," Oreius said with yet another, grim smile. He turned and with it, it seemed Luz Tarkaan's flagship did as well. Ores sprouted from its flanks as it began to push against the swell, rowing it out of the cove in retreat.

But the general didn't linger to watch, heading straight for the officer's quarters. Ayel watched in disbelief what he could only describe as madness.

As general Oreius entered below deck he headed to a box, bearing the royal seal of a lion's head. An intricate locking mechanism protected the contents and only four people beside himself knew the correct sequence to open the locks. His large hands slid over the levers and dials until a crisp click signaled its unlocking. He open the heavy, mahogany top and breathed a sigh at sight of the contents within. Perched on two supports rested the Queens horn. Tucked in amongst scarlet velvet and leaf gold it sat like a little egg in a nest. His breath quivered as he picked it up in gentle hands and turned it to and fro, catching the light of a single lantern and the sharpening glow of the sun outside. The spun gold reflected brilliantly and a smile erupted on his face.

He took a satchel and gently placed the horn within, closing the clasp securely. It would not do to lose that particular parcel.

He turned again, leaving the gaping lid of the lion box open, unworried by who might find it. He walked out onto the deck once more and was met with Ayel's worried stare. Though close enough to touch the man did not speak, only nervously curled a hand in front of his mouth and watched the general with a certain apprehension.

Oreius summoned a Bird with the barest of nods, unconcerned by the scrutiny. A Peregrine Falcon had been waiting for a command and was swift to approach. "General," she whistled in greeting.

"It is done," He handed the leather parcel over and held still as it was tightened to her back. "Don't lose this."

She nodded and hopped in place, adjusting to the new weight. "I won't, General," she promised.

"Is it too heavy?"

"It's fine," she assured and settled on her perch. "I'll reach them before this evening," She was of the royal guard and a proud courier, no less. It would take to might of Aslan Himself before she veered off course or faltered.

"Good. Go."

And she was off.

* * *

Peter heard the news as scattered, distant voices called throughout the castle and disregarded it instantly. Calormen ships had been engaged by Galmian ones. The invaders were retreating.

A more immediate threat in his mind was the crowd outside the gates that had _not_ been deterred. Peter had lost any interest in anything except for that which was within reach. Sleep deprivation reared its ugly head and his thoughts turned more and more often to his missing siblings, spinning in useless circles until he gave up and began again. On top of it all his Narnian company was now long gone, and in their wake a band of Terebinthian soldiers with their last remaining prince.

Left were only the royal, Terebinthian elders, steadfast Helios, and a group of rather anxious soldiers.

He strapped on the last of his armor and turned to leave when Helios suddenly surged into action and drew his sword without warning. "Someone's here," he barked.

Instantly two ethereal figures emerged from shadow, kneeling before their king. As they stood both saw the two ladies, taller than either man, and graceful as only their kind could be. One light and fair, the other swarthy and pensive. "Put down your sword, Captain. They're friends," He nodded to the ladies in greeting as he knew them well. "Méssida, Lady of the Dawn. Duruksa, Lady of Rime," With them followed a fresh scent of dawn and spring that bolstered his resolve. "How may I help you?" He bowed quickly, finding himself only mildly surprised by their sudden presence, but stirred from his oblique thoughts.

Méssida smiled and led the two in a less formal curtsey. Helios had quite lost his wits at their arrival. "It is we who come to assist _you_ , My King. If you permit us to."

His smile grew. "On the word of a certain General, no doubt."

She smiled secretively. "He lives like the stars, Sire. With each rotation he becomes all the wiser in the ways of the world."

The dark-haired and olive-skinned of the two continued. "He sees events unfolded like lines on a map, Your Majesty," She smiled fully, the expression changing her face remarkably. "He sees trouble before it strikes."

* * *

Edmund had forced his wave of terror back even as it attempted to suffocate him in blind panic. "We could try something," he whispered. He refused to look at her as she sat in his embrace, not sure he would much like what he found. "We could-" His dry throat stole the sound and he cleared it. "We could use the poison."

His shirt was wet with tears where she had leaned against it. The thought of it brought an ill feeling to the pit of his stomach.

Her answer surprised him, as did the strength in her voice. "We can't do it here, though," she whispered. She straightened from his side and looked at him, wiping her eyes. "I think I know how."

He saw it plainly just as she must have seen it in him. She would not let him die that slow, horrible death. "We'll need somewhere guarded."

He had no intention of dying at all. At least not until he saw her home.

She looked around the darkness and the flickering firelight. "There's nowhere," Her voice threatened to break, but she didn't falter. She sniffed and rubbed her reddened eyes.

For such a young child – both of them – he wondered how long into their reign this would carry. The consequences of their actions and the terrors they had so far witnessed. _Would_ witness. She groaned low in her throat and looked away in frustration.

"What?" He looked around, but none of the men took notice. Some were gathered near a corner of the wall, staring at whoever was out there staring back.

"I need to know how it grows."

He frowned. "What?"

Thoughts were bouncing behind her eyes as they traced thin air in rapid motions. "Nothing grows rampant, not even _that_ ," she muttered with a curt glance at his stomach. "Plants follow rules, Edmund," she said. She was wringing her hands. "They don't just do whatever they want because they _want_ to."

He had little knowledge to counter that statement and so only nodded. "And we'd need light," he added.

She looked at him with eyes alight once more. "Yes."

"Either by the sun or by fire."

"Plus it might not be…" Her eyes drifted lightning quick to the fabric hiding his stomach. "It might be something else," she tried again.

"My veins are almost black, Lu…" he whispered. They let the rest be carried by the nightly breeze. He wouldn't mention how his breaths were becoming more and more labored, though he suspected it was audible by now. He breathed to speak, but was interrupted by a sudden, unearthly scream, followed by a very human bellow.

" _Atta-ack_!" Hadron shouted drawn-out as all Hell broke loose.

* * *

Phi, formerly Kairon's assistant, had wandered in a daze. His skin was boiling, but the heat was only that – skin-deep. Inside he felt cold as death and knew precisely the cause. Could _feel_ it wriggling under his skin, coming out of him through hidden wounds and with every cough. Tickling the back of his throat as it moved, but unable to clear it by coughing. He had staggered from Kairon's premature tomb for him and wandered aimlessly towards sounds in the distance. A faint glow made by human-fire. The only source of light in this nightmare his life had become.

No, dawn was a long way coming and darkness roamed freely, but an _oh_ _so_ human fire burned achingly close by. The vines languidly crowded the bone dry dirt in the darkness. Hissing as they traveled over loose stones. Spidery fingers reached out to him once in a while, but most were easily swatted away or ground beneath his boots, even as some of them began crawling up his boots and pants. So long as he didn't fall. So long as his feet could still carry him.

He could feel the vines on his bones. Inside. Teasing their way to the outside through every orifice, from a deep tickle in his inner ear to a ceaseless writhing in his rectum. Maddening tickles that were impossible to reach. Weakening every inch of him they claimed more.

They preyed on the weak, the plants. The weak of will or weak of body, but it mattered not. As long as he had one of either, he would keep walking.

* * *

Peter escorted the two ladies of Narnia outside and watched the Terebinthian soldiers crowd closer, just inside the palace gates. Wide, boyish eyes sailed to the two, stunning maidens, for no man alive had seen a true Narnian so close by. Peter settled himself between the Nymphs, taking advantage of their very _Narnian_ appearance.

"Your princes have been taken from you," he called to those gathered, keenly aware of the shouts beyond the wall. They all heard them and saw the torchlight that lent a risk of arson to their endeavor. "My siblings as well."

The men shuffled closer until they stood in a thick circle around their fabled king.

"But I believe they will _all_ come back to us," He shouted to be heard and looked closely from face to face. "I believe in the strength of my family and that of my Lord."

* * *

The two Great Cats, Lir and Dahlia, began digging almost at once, joined quickly by the Hyena, Connie. The three Animals dragged large swipes into the hard soil inside the cave as the Gryphons and Eagles flew the dirt away outside, one massive clawful at a time. Susan called for the Tiger Costar, with his superior night vision, to join her. The Gryphons and Eagles could spot a field mouse from hundreds of feet in the air, but were outmatched by the Great Cats in their present company. "Look there," she ordered in the dark.

Costar sat patiently as his eyes adjusted to the conditions inside the little nook. Not a cave at all really and he'd had a fleeting moment of doubt when his queen instructed them to start digging. The Hyena had dug in without delay, the Ocelot Lir as well. But Costar had worried for the briefest of moments and had studied his queen.

An expression of keen understanding had flashed quicker than lightning across her face and a fierce surge of guilt had swelled in his chest. Great Cats were not outdone in many ways, least of all in morale. _Never_ had a Cat _not_ found a chore that did not contain even the slightest sliver of pleasure. Even in the earthy hole Dahlia had started a friendly competition with Connie, though it appeared the Hyena had little to no knowledge of it.

"Another paw," the Panthress panted as she shoveled aside a pile of dirt and rubble with her massive paws. Spine coiling with power and tail swiping from side to side. Grinning with deadly sharp canines and staring through fully blown pupils.

Connie snorted as she accidentally inhaled some dirt, but soldiered on unperturbed, grunting to herself in relentless effort. Attacking the soil. The lady Panther growled and renewed her own efforts. Lir seemed oblivious in the midst of their competing vigor.

It was how Costar decided within himself. "Where do you want me, Your Grace?" he asked his queen.

She swallowed whatever unease his hesitation had caused and pointed to the bottom of the hole they were expanding. "They're digging down because of the rock. I'd like if you could try and locate any way around it,"

He bowed and darted closer. The bedrock was hidden under a thin layer of dirt, but Costar saw the contours under the soil. He sidestepped wild pitches of dirt as they were sprayed out between Connie's hind legs. She snorted again and he had the notion that she would be sneezing black for many weeks to come.

He grinned as he climbed deeper into the darkness.

As they worked Susan stepped back outside and approached her self-appointed guardians. She was now covered in dirt as well. "There's Narnian blood in the air, Queen Susan," Zizi announced.

Otonoca nodded in confirmation. "Someone approaches by foot, but with mules and tools for digging."

"They must be clear across the mountain still. How can you know?"

Had any them the ability they surely would have smiled. "There's a way of things, Your Majesty."

Her frown melted when she saw Donn circle down in the dark blue sky before grabbing on to a perch a few heights above them. Flapping his massive wings to stay seated. "I see," she smiled and looked knowingly at the Gryphon matriarch. "And pray tell, what does the World tell you, my mighty cousins?"

Manon chuckled and instantly hid his beak with a gentle shove from Zizi. "Captain Celer and his troop are traveling the long way to you, Your Majesty. They follow a well-traveled road, but we are not on any road known to man, not even the ones they're with."

"They travel with humans?"

"Terebinthians, My Queen," Donn joined. "The young Prince, if my eyes do not forsake me."

She glanced back at the cave. "We could use the extra hands," she said.

Otonoca bowed her head. "I agree."

"How many?"

"A little heavier than a dozen, Your Majesty," Donn announced.

"And how many are Narnian?"

"Five."

She frowned. "That's all of them. Unless some of the guards left the _Ouranios_ to join them?"

"Not to my knowledge," Otonoca said.

Susan's frown deepened. "He must've sent them off," she muttered. _Oh Peter_. Her eyes refocused on the Gryphon lady before a glimmer of courage lit up in her eyes and hope swelled within her breast.

"Now why would a King do such a thing?" the Gryphon asked and Susan's smile bloomed.

 _He believes me_. "Go fetch them for me. As many as you can carry."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she declared with three mighty swipes of her wings. In a whirl of air all eight were off, leaving Susan lighter than before.

* * *

" _Move_ , Your Majesties!" Hadron shouted as he hurled himself at them.

A scream rent the air as they saw one, massive hand rip a man off his feet by the edge of the wall. Pulling him clean off the roof. "Archers to me!" the Terebinthian captain roared even as he ran with one iron fist clamped around Edmund's arm.

Without much thought he was pulled to the opposite side of the roof. Escar was perched by a length of rope, waving them over. Edmund was unceremoniously lowered down first. Hadron himself followed a second later. Edmund's dark eyes, attempted to adjust to the shadows as they bowed to torches that were dropped haphazardly. He was dumb to the sudden chaos that erupted on the roof and only then realized his sister missing from his side. "Lucy!" he cried.

"Edmund!"

"She's here, Sire," Hadron said. She was quickly lowered, followed by Gedeminas and yet more men. Edmund had lost sight of prince Baro and found himself unable to focus on anything but the ground and his sister, not knowing she had her keen eye on _him_ and their surroundings.

From atop the roof more men screamed in pain and the creatures screeched in gleeful mimicry.

They were now severely less than they were just moments before. "Stay with me!" Hadron ordered. "Protect the royals."

Someone clamped a hand around his arm again and Edmund realized his sword had been taken from him. "No wait-" He jerked.

"What is it?" Hadron paused, turning to him, believing the young king to be in pain.

"Shaefelm, I need-"

"Edmund, I have it. Captain, keep moving!" Lucy shouted from right behind him.

"Incoming!" A worker shouted when yips and whistles drew nearer. Something bounded onto the ledge of a building with horrific ease and gazed down at them. It perched there and whistled again, spear gripped loosely in its hands. In the distance someone screamed for help, but the tone sounded off. No one stopped to accommodate it, sensing the innate _wrongness_.

The group sped through half familiar streets in the darkness, kicking vines and torching them in their path back to the mine, uncaring about the flaming trail they were leaving. Narrow alleys opened up like wounds of a massive beast. Treacherous with their promises of safety, only to lure them into a blind corner. Their torches flickered and left unexplored shadows climbing.

Another desperate plea for help came from a rooftop that sent a ripple through them. It sounded like Lucy and Edmund's eyes shot to her to make sure she was still there, bewildered by the discord between sight and sound.

"We must hurry, your Majesty. They're protecting _you_ ," Hadron explained with a nod to the abandoned men. He looked like it pained him to flee and it was then Edmund realized how few were actually _there_ in present company.

A scream ripped through his thoughts as a man was yanked up, into the darkness behind them. "Baro!" Lucy screamed and lunged back. Would have continued if not Gedeminas' sharp jerk on her arm. Edmund received her from the young soldier and shoved her in between himself and Hadron as they hurried on.

His breath shuttered when roaring hisses echoed from their right. "They're upon us!" Gedeminas cried to his commander and crowded closer against Edmund's back.

"Lucy, give me my sword," She thrust it into his hand and drew the bow from her back. Taking aim towards the sounds. An arrow flew and a beast was jerked off its feet, off a wall. So fearsome for such a tiny human, Edmund thought deliriously.

" _Left_!" Hadron bellowed.

The group turned as one and sped towards the hill when the wall of collapsed stones suddenly unveiled itself. Up there was a gap they could widen. If they could just keep a perimeter. " _No_!" Lucy cried when another of the workers were felled by a mighty spear and skated several feet across the ground.

"Up!" Hadron barked and began a rapid ascent, sword still in hand.

Edmund looked around, frantically trying to see how many remained. Bilfred was with them. So was Gedeminas, half a step behind Lucy. Three miners. Hadron and Escar. Fear swelled in his throat. He could feel his strength being eaten by whatever had a hold of his body, his blood pumping fuel to _it_ instead of him.

Screams rent the air in the distance, closing in. Haunting yowls. Either the men dying or the creatures imitating them. "Hadron, we need shelter," Lucy cried. A rock shifted above them on the collapse and she fired an arrow at a fiend. Another, or the same one, moved again and the miner Typhos threw his axe at its head without pause. It flew back out of view and stayed gone.

"We'll never get it open, Captain!" Bilfred cried as he spied pale shadows moving across the ground, only about twenty meters below them. "The caverns up left," he shouted and pointed. They lay like little, hollows among the white stones. Edmund's breath was bellowing in and out. Thus far the caverns had been disregarded, but now it appeared their last option.

"We need a defensive shelter, Captain," Gedeminas called. Stress clear in his voice. His sword was dark with some substance though Edmund couldn't remember seeing him strike any fiends in their escape.

In the distance Baro screamed for his brother, who immediately screamed back.

"It's not him, Sire," Hadron yelled with a strong arm around the prince. The captain looked to Bilfred with wide eyes before he nodded. "Alright _go!_ Soldier-" Gedeminas looked up sharply. "You have command. Take them-"

"No!" Lucy cried.

" _Take_ them to the caves," He gave his prince a forceful shove. "You," he said to two of the workers. "Solor, Ishya. How many arrows between you?"

Edmund recognized them from earlier. They had fired at the dogs as well. "Nine," the one named Ishya said in a thin voice.

"We keep the rear, protect the royals. Do you understand!"

"Yes Sir!" both shouted without any hesitation. The creatures were scrabbling closer, not hindered in the least it seemed.

"Solor, give me your pick," Typhos called as he ran.

"Hadron," Gedeminas begged one, last time.

"Go!" the captain barked when a fiend cleared the last few meters to their position. With a roar of fury, Hadron leaped down and struck the creature over the head in a downward swing. Gedeminas ushered Lucy and Edmund up to Typhos and Escar, and ran ahead with Bilfred.

Hadron knocked the fiend back with a yell and it slipped, but kept squirming. Twitching to get back up even after a blade directly to the skull. " _Bastards_ ," Hadron hissed and advanced as more of them climbed edged closer to his position.

Gedeminas was ahead, joined by the master miner. The two ran along the rocks until they reached the first cave, little more than a pocket full of vines. Gedeminas barked in shock and hurried toward the next. Escar, Lucy and Edmund close behind with Typhos bringing up the rear.

Behind them yells and screeches echoed among the three left behind and arrows whistled through the air amidst Hadron's mad war-cries. The three had the high ground, but not for long. _But it worked_ , Edmund realized. The fiends were drawn to the battle cry of each man as the remaining five made their hasty retreat into the darkness.

The last Edmund saw before he was pushed into a cave was the captain bodily thrusting himself upon a creature far larger than himself and burying a blade in its back. An explosion of black blood and then darkness.

* * *

Gedeminas led them into the only cave that promised a deeper hideaway. The sounds of their struggling comrades giving way to the chitter of vines. The air was alive as they hissed and twitched at the intrusion. They squirmed aside when stepped on and Edmund noted dazedly that none of their group seemed as nervous around them anymore.

"We need a light," Escar said from his spot at Edmund's back, sword at the ready. Lucy was a step in front of him. Her quiver held three arrows left and one strung. Gedeminas held his sword as well, Bilfred the shaft of a pick-axe and Typhos a single-edged pick.

"Let me, Your Majesty," Bilfred said in reply and warily wrapped a small vine around the end of his make-shift torch, gingerly grabbing it and quickly wrapping it around. It had been used as such before, Edmund spotted when it lit. The wood was stained black with soot from previous use. "Alright," the miner said nervously. "Typhos, lend me your eyes," The vine fizzed and burned brightly before it settled into a dimmed smolder.

The master miner and his worker moved to the head of the group, shifting to allow Gedeminas and Escar to take the rear. "Stay alert, both of you. We don't know how deep this cave goes or what might be in there."

Lucy glanced back at the soldier and left at Edmund. "We need to stop soon."

"Majesty, we cannot afford-" Gedeminas began to say.

"We'll _have_ to," she interrupted, refocusing her attention on the unexplored cave ahead of them. "A successful return is contingent on the return of both me and my brother, _alive_."

Edmund felt sorry for the young lad at the tone of her voice and looked back with a wince. His body was raging against itself, but that tone was one he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemy. One Lucy had perfectly inherited from their mother. Gedeminas looked shaken as he stared at Edmund in the flickering light. Escar just looked drawn and pale, shell shocked and still uncomprehending of the events.

Bilfred had watched the interaction before he nodded. "Very well. I'll keep an eye out for somewhere suitable."

Even as he said it Edmund's heart fell, for the ground and walls were alive with slow moving ash vines and there looked to be no reprieve for miles. He looked to Lucy again, searching perhaps for some kind of reassurance.

She stared straight ahead.

* * *

Peter looked at the soldiers, gathered around him. "We must secure their safe return, but to do that we _must_ secure the castle," he declared in a firm voice.

Someone shouted outside the gates and something heavy slammed against them. Every man present jerked.

"Méssida," She looked to him as he spoke her name. "You've walked among these people. Can you speak to them?" She nodded. "Beg them to see reason."

"Yes, Sire," she said as she vanished in a puff of mist and breezed outside the wall.

There suddenly fell an unearthly silence as all stared in shock and wonder at the arrival of a distinctly _un_ -human woman. "Men and women of Terebinthia," Méssida spoke in a clear voice. Her sharp eyes slid across the gathered. "I come to you as a friend," She spread out her hands and looked those closest to her in the eye.

A low muttering rippled through them as the animosity seemed momentarily displaced.

"Will you allow me to speak?" she asked and took another step into the gathering. For a few moments no one answered until a nameless face in the crowds spoke up.

"Were _we_ allowed to?" he shouted. A voice amongst many.

She saddened. "I fear not, for I have not heard you, but rest assured. Narnia is listening _now_ ," her voice deepened and resounded with an echo of something beyond her youthful appearance. A sliver of the deep magic of her home.

"Where are the royals?" a woman shouted. "Our sons and daughters who were buried in that rotten mine!"

"We do not know. Your royals search for them even now."

" _Lies!_ " a third called. "Our King did nothing but lie and deceive us."

Several shouted in agreement.

She froze and turned as the gates suddenly opened. Two timid soldiers entered ahead of a King Peter, who had not yet drawn his sword, but looked every bit the fabled ruler. His clear, blue eyes scoured the faces around him, taking in the weary and desolate expressions with a calm that made her realize _why_ Aslan had chosen him. "Citizens of Eion," he called. "Do you know me by my appearance?"

Some muttered, but only one spoke clearly. "King Peter of Narnia."

He allowed the mutterings to start back up and she watched him in fascination. "Do you know of my purpose here?" he asked them.

The mutterings continued. A stroke of anger lingered in the air like a noxious gas, waiting to be ignited.

"I've come on behest of your Prince," This shocked a different tone among the gathered as the mutterings began anew. "Hilio rides, as we speak, to the east. To aid in the discovery of your royals and my siblings."

The mutterings continued as many began to argue amongst themselves. "He speaks the truth," a familiar voice suddenly called.

Out of the gates exited Queen Hira, followed by two dozen soldiers. None had drawn swords and the queen wore no armor. "Earlier this night the Narnians and Galmians rebuffed the advances of Calormene warships in your very harbor," She gestured down to the ports that lay silent in the wake of an anxious night. The dawn climbed, blinding and powerful, over the horizon. "You all saw the ocean rise up, did you not!" she demanded.

"Witchcraft!" someone yelled.

"Mind your tongue!" Peter yelled. He took three steps into the crowds and saw the accuser flinch back. "The witches _you_ fear have long since been destroyed by legions of _loyal_ soldiers and warriors," He gestured and stepped deeper into the crowds. "The very men and women, who have fought to rid this world of true _evil_ , did so again this evening."

Mutterings of the nature of Narnians and witches stirred again.

"You came here to be heard by your sovereigns, but refuse in the same breath to listen," he continued. He looked about at the faces of men and women who now began to display doubt. "Hear me when I say to you that whatever disservice you have been bestowed by your Terebinthian King will be set right. Whatever losses you have suffered, know that they would have been a hundredfold had the mine not been sealed."

Words rippled through the crowds and one was repeated by several. _Vines_. Peter frowned in distaste. "And _know_ that I suffer with you," he begged. He paused as though waiting for anyone to challenge him. "But our fear has a counter. A balance that has been remiss, but is now restored."

"What balance?" a man asked softly.

Peter smiled and breathed a deep sigh as he felt some of the anger ease. "Queen Susan the Gentle."

Murmurs began again, half in wonder and half in fear.

"She searches for _your_ lost brothers and sisters just as she searches for ours," he barked, irked by their hesitance at her name. " _She_ is searching as we speak. _She_ will be the one to deliver your recompense. Restore our faith in your thrones."

Again he looked around, daring anyone to challenge him outright. ´

"But she requires our aide," A strange power grew inside him as he looked at their faces and saw it reflected when several drew deep breaths of apprehension. "You wanted to dig out those who were lost to you. _She_ does that this very hour."

"Where?" someone asked, almost disbelieving. "In the east?"

"Have _faith_ ," he demanded roughly. "Believe in the powers that defeated the very ships in your harbor this morn," He pointed towards the brightening sea. "Have courage in the ladies of Narnia that stand before you and rest assured that you _are_ – each and every one of you – Narnians yourselves," he shouted as he turned and looked at each one.

"Heed your King," Hira joined from her spot, looking straight at Peter. "Be wiser than the wardens of Eion," she said with only the slightest quiver to her own voice.

Her words fell into silence as the people stared, either at her or at Peter.

"Help us," Méssida pleaded as she too looked around, reclaiming attention. "Protect that which is most sacred to you and do so, _safe_ in the knowledge that Narnia protects _you_."

People looked amongst themselves and Méssida held her breath. The crowds then seemed to almost deflate. The tension lifted and she saw in her king a stirring of relief, so preciously brief, when a sense of urgency took its place. "What say you?" he called and looked around. "Will you help us?"

* * *

"Sire," Bilfred said in a shocked tone. His torch was the only source of light in the tunnel that suddenly widened into a round chamber.

"What is this?" Escar breathed as he looked up and up and up.

Gedeminas cast wary eyes around the bare floor and walls.

"Not a single ash vine in sight," the prince continued.

Lucy's eyes cleared and she looked at the vacant room in clinical assessment. "How many exits do you see?"

"Two," Bilfred answered, gesturing his torch to the path ahead of them and back from whence they came.

With a nod she turned to Gedeminas. "We'll need to stop here."

"Your Majesty, I understand the dilemma, but surely we have time to find somewhere more suitable-"

"Where, Gedeminas?" She gestured with the bow. "We might not get another chance," Without waiting for permission she turned to her brother. "Edmund take off your shirt. Typhos, I need your coat."

She set down the little pouch she had kept since Kairon's betrayal. The little vials and bottles inside clinked against one another and Edmund was brutally reminded what the recommended cure for his particular ailment was.

"Your Majesty-" The men still hesitated.

"Stop," she said and stood. All emotion had left her face and in its wake was a far older version of the little girl Edmund knew. "If I don't do this, no one will," She looked at Edmund. "Ed, please," she said more softly. "Remove your shirt."

Edmund cast a glance at Gedeminas, carefully avoiding Escar, and sheathed his sword. It was the absolute antithesis of an ideal situation. The most knowledgeable person in the room was an eleven year old, one of their guardians was a potentially unstable, trained and armored prince, violent predators were potentially minutes from their position, and the only instruments of use were knives and toxins. He swallowed down a wave of trepidation, but forced his hands to move despite their shiver. Surrendering to circumstance. He took off his swords-belt and pulled off his shirt, noting how stiff his shoulder- and elbow joints had become. He would not have been able to lift Shaefelm above his head at this point, let alone wield it with any kind of strength. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, not out of doubt, but because it felt to him a point of no return was imminent.

"I've been thinking about the miners that were first infected," she said as she spread out Typhos' coat on the ground. "The plants centered themselves in their bodies. In their stomachs," She glanced up and he realized she was uncertain, but determined. She was lying to soothe him.

"That means you'll have to rifle through intestines," Edmund whispered even as he lay down. he couldn't bring himself to use _my_. As a last defense, perhaps.

"Queen Lucy, what do you need from me?" Gedeminas asked despairingly, apparently having submitted to circumstance as well.

"Keep your sword out and keep watch," she answered shortly.

He nodded in no slight amount of relief and turned to guard their rear.

"And me?" Bilfred asked equally soft.

Lucy glanced at him and then Escar. "You and Escar, come help hold him down," The master miner handed his torch to Typhos and kneeled. Smiling wanly to Edmund's face below.

Edmund swallowed as he lay against the hard packed soil, fever surging through him. He saw none of the hesitation on their faces so consumed was he by the pain. The heat that seemed to only burn the very edge of his skin, leaving his insides in a deep cold. Almost as if he was already dead, he thought. He remembered very little of what it had felt like to be pierced by Jadis' staff, but that bone deep chill brought up ugly feelings of hopelessness and guilt that he thought were long dead.

"Typhos, keep watch that way," Escar said and pointed into the darkness. The man reluctantly did as asked and Lucy's two helpers grabbed either end of Edmund's body.

She took a deep breath and tapped the three knives on the ground, almost mechanically. "What does the cordial heal?" she asked, though both were familiar with its effects.

"Any open wound," Edmund whispered. His fingers had begun shaking as they rested along his sides and he ached to reach up and grab his sister's hand. Longing for any kind of comfort.

Lucy nodded. "If the wounds are there for a short moment then infection won't have time to set in," she muttered. He knew she was now only speaking to herself. Reminding herself what to expect. She had healed wounded soldiers on other fields of combat since the battle of Beruna, but this was a vastly different situation. "The poison kills the vines, but it doesn't remove them," she muttered softly to herself even as she placed the sheer vial on the ground, next to the knives. "The plant prefers the stomach area," She reached out with a quick glance at Edmund's eyes before she carefully touched his stomach.

His breath stuttered when she touched him, but hardly out of pain. In fact there was very little pain anywhere anymore. Only that bone-deep chill. He supposed the vines were responsible for that as well. Somehow they merged seamlessly with his body and took up unwanted residence. Sensation in his fingertips had dulled since becoming infected, much unlike Lucy's warm fingers, as they palpated his stomach like Titus had taught her to do. The Faun, who was presumably still on Terebinthia, was an experienced field medic and had instantly taken a liking to the youngest Pevensie.

"I need to push a bit harder," she whispered.

Again she sought out his eyes briefly and he nodded. He felt himself slide into an apathetic daze at her ministrations. Either it would work or he would die, he thought simply, but to his horror those outcomes were preferable to being slowly eaten alive. He settled within himself that he had become quite glib about his situation, possibly preferring that state to one of insanity? Her fingers dug deeper into his hot skin and moved around to his flanks.

She stiffened a second. "You felt something?" he asked and craned his neck to look down.

"Something moved," she whimpered. She began probing again, still pushing to feel the deeper muscles and the bowels that hid beneath them.

He looked up and suddenly re-discovered Bilfred hovering above his head. He was sweating. "How are you faring, Master Miner?" he asked lightly.

The man swallowed down and nodded. He wiped a hand across his brow. "I wouldn't worry too much," he continued. "She's quite good at this," Even as he spoke he began to feel a draw to unconsciousness. His eyelids became heavy and his breathing more labored as their harried escape began to catch up to him.

"Edmund?"

"Yes?" he asked in a thin voice. His eyes had closed on their own accord.

"Edmund, what's happening?" Lucy asked with a bit more determination in her voice.

"Dunno, Lu-"

"Typhos, I need you," Gedeminas suddenly called from somewhere out of sight, drawing everyone's attention for a brief moment.

Edmund began panting and his eyes drifted half closed. "Feel light," he breathed.

"Your Majesty?" Typhos asked.

"Go, leave the torch," Escar ordered.

The world faded into flickering yellows and black shadows, and footsteps of adults leaving him and his sister alone. But Edmund had long since forgotten the color of a Narnian sky and wondered if perhaps it was not so much the world, but rather himself who was finally drifting away. He then heard, clear as a bell, the sound of a cork leaving the mouth of a bottle. "Help me," Lucy said and someone jostled his head. A rough hand raised it from the ground and a little one came to rest against his chin. He realized how clammy it was and felt sorry for the hand. "Edmund, swallow this."

He parted his lips, trusting the voice and the sensation of something being poured into his mouth. A familiar experience already at this stage of his life. He found the thought quite funny and giggled as the liquid trickled down his throat, bringing with it instant heat.

Suddenly everything exploded and he arched up, mouth and eyes wide open, heaving for air, his skin lit on fire. No flames followed, but the sense of every piece of him burning twisted from a sick stab in his stomach, out through his entire system. A strange sound left his mouth, not a scream nor a whimper, but something that very much wanted to be both.

"Hold him!" Lucy ordered and picked up a knife. The smallest she had.

Escar held down Edmund's legs and Bilfred his torso as he began writhing from the initial effects of silver jellyfish poison. "My God," Bilfred breathed as black veins instantly puckered across his stomach and face. Veins popped along his neck and his fingers curled into deformed claws as pain ravaged its way through every nerve.

Lucy forcibly stomped her panic down and laid the first incision. A neat, little line into her brother's skin.

* * *

TBC

...within the next two days. I love you! You're why I write this :*


	19. In the Footsteps of the Youngest

_Disclaimer: I'd like to reiterate, Mallo and Celer belong to elecktrum. I graciously borrow. Nor do I own the words written by Lewis (used as a direct quote in this chapter - two lines in italics without quotation marks - Susan's second passage), as they are spoken by Father Christmas in The_ _Lion_ _, the_ _Witch_ _and the Wardrobe.  
_

 _A/N: Another long one._ _Be warned_ _:)_

* * *

Chapter 19: In the Footsteps of the Youngest

Mallo rose up on a massive swell that flanked her. Her elongated body dressed in the wave like royal robes on a queen. The seas had fallen silent as the remaining, Calormene ships followed Luz back out to sea.

Oreius watched her with a smile, as the ruler of the sea-people ascended to greet him. "Stargazer," she said in a calm, but booming voice.

"Satrap," he returned with a bow. "Thank you for your invaluable assistance."

She nodded and smirked. "It's been a while, Oreius."

"That it has," he said though a grin.

She watched him as the bright sun glinted off his brown eyes. Her own, pale and formless like perfect pearls. "The King of West and Queen of East?" she asked with a glance to shore. As powerful as she was she would never have legs to walk on. Never feel the warmth of direct sunlight. Never dance.

"I hope we shall soon see them again."

"We pray you're right," She looked down a moment in thought. "And what of the High King?"

Oreius glanced back to shore as she had. "Trouble looms still."

She scoffed. "It always will," When he looked at her, her smile brightened into that of a young woman. "We shall weather it, General."

A sudden and unwelcome burst of sorrow choked his victorious relief and a fleeting sense of dread washed over his heart.

"I _promise_ , Oreius," she said with a solemn nod and retreated as the wave fell beneath her. "Now go. Find your king," she called before the swell vanished completely and she along with it. Leaving no trace of her presence.

* * *

Gedeminas and Typhos ventured away from the faint light of their one torch as a foreign sound had drawn them. Both flinched when a scream suddenly split the air in the illuminated cave behind them. Edmund writhed in the combined grips of Escar and Bilfred and Gedeminas watched the silhouette of Queen Lucy the Valiant as she attempted to save her brother, but only a moment. He and Typhos shared a look before they ventured a bit farther away and turned a bend in the tunnel, one ear on the royals though they could no longer see them.

Despite their anxiety both were taken violently by surprise when the very sound that had drawn them revealed itself. A writhing body lunged at Gedeminas from the shadows and knocked him over before he could so much as raise his sword.

"Oi!" Typhos barked out and yanked the small-statured attacker off.

The soldier drew deep breaths in shock and scrambled to his feet, re-gripping his weapon and taking up position next to the rather large miner. The two stood side by side and watched fearfully, as a boy writhed on the ground. He was covered in large, black patches that moved on his skin by their own accord, watery blood seeping from bleeding sores. "Phi," Typhos breathed out as the boy scrambled to his knees, bent in half with crooked fingers supporting his upper body. His back was rigid and his face was angled down, but a frightful wheezing followed on every exhale. His chest expanded dramatically to force each subsequent breath and the boy looked inches from death.

"Aslan…" Typhos whispered and slowly lowered his pick, having raised it to strike.

The young man looked up and revealed two, uneven pupils. One blown out to fill his iris almost completely, the other a mere pinprick of black, ringed by pale blue. Both men dropped their jaws and retreated a step when Phi looked up and smiled through chapped lips. Black foam ringed the corners of his mouth and grey gums ebbed into equally grey teeth, partially cloaked in black tendrils that writhed slowly in the half light. On his tongue as well.

"Boy," Gedeminas begged as he held out his unarmed hand in a pacifying gesture. Phi's eyes fixed on him and he wheezed out a throaty laugh.

He coughed as though attempting to speak, but only managed two, broken words. "Th-" His inhale, severely lacking. "They're comn'g," he gasped out and laughed breathlessly again.

Gedeminas' breath left him as he watched Phi collapse onto the ground, tenderly caressed by the vines on his body. The soldier took an aborted step to reach down and pull him up, but Typhos stopped him. "He's dead."

Gedeminas looked at him in disbelief. "He's _breathing_."

"He's _dying_ ," The large man said regretfully. "C'mon," He was looking down the tunnel through the blackness. "He wanted to warn us and he did," He yanked Gedeminas' arm. "C'm _on_."

He quickly led them back to the royals, still holding down an insensate Edmund. They arrived in time to see the young queen pull something writhing from her brother's body. His breathing was almost as bad as Phi's.

* * *

Susan watched the sky as the first men were dropped in. Otonoca had been better than her word as men and Narnians were unloaded in the narrow ravine, two by two. Each carrying axes and shovels. Rope and linens.

The dawn unfolded into morning as the mighty Birds and Gryphons worked in tireless monotony, freighting Terebinthian men and even the beasts to the site. As more joined noise began to fill the walls among the mountains and Susan experienced a growing sense of impatience. Celer joined her in quiet observance as the workers labored on, Hilio among them. Only once or twice did Susan correct their course even though she remained in the widening cavity, watching. The cave grew in size and depth with each passing hour and she felt its progress like a slow charge across her skin.

They were moving too slow.

* * *

"King Edmund," Gedeminas breathed at the sight. Blood soaked the ground around the young boy and up Lucy's arms in clumsy strokes, but she seemed ignorant of it. She had flipped Edmund over with the help of a quivering Bilfred and was pulling a black vine out from below her brother's shoulder blade.

"I've almost got it," she said in a quivering voice as she allowed the black vines, slick with the king's blood, to wrap around her hands before she threw another one away. She had pulled them out, one by one, getting more desperate after the slenderest ones broke in her grasp. More and more frustrated with each half successful attempt and every time she had to stick her fingers into Edmund's flesh. She had carved deeper into his side and back, numb to the way his screams had tapered off to desolate weeping. Cries of agony as he writhed weakly on the ground. Bilfred was pale and quiet, holding Edmund up as though distanced from it by shock. Escar was trembling and kept making aborted attempts to assist Lucy whenever one of the vines snapped, but she was diligent and refused his attempts.

"That was Phi," Gedeminas announced in a thin voice. The carnage was chilling. "Is he dying?" he whispered.

"Yes," Lucy bit out. She wasn't weeping.

"I thought Phi was dead?" Escar asked without taking his eyes from Edmund's body.

Gedeminas swallowed and glanced up, towards the torch. They had stuck it into the ground to keep the darkness at bay and its light was fading. "He said more were coming."

"You must stop, Queen Lucy," Typhos said in a mortified voice, as though not having heard the entire exchange. He watched the young king with wide eyes and was starkly reminded of his own sons. "Please," he begged.

Lucy made a sound, half in frustration half in victory, when she ripped free another vine and threw it towards the flame. It writhed feebly on the ground and curled in on itself before it fell still. "Almost," she whimpered and peeled back a flap of severed skin. She grabbed another vine, this one as fine as a string, and teased it free of her brother's bared muscle. Blood caked it in a half coagulated mess with more pulsing out as she freed the vine. It wrapped itself around her blood slicked fingers the second it was ripped from its host, seeking warmth. She threw it like she had the others and wasted no time in pulling the stopper on her cordial. "Turn him," she ordered and was obeyed instantly.

Time seemed to slow as she tilted the bottle ever so slightly and let a single drop drip into Edmund's mouth. Every bone in his body had gone slack. His eyes were half open and his last breath had no successor. "Gods," Bilfred whispered as he watched the amber pearl vanish in between bloodless lips. He truly looked dead.

Lucy gently closed his mouth and leaned closer to watch for any movement. Her hands hovered in the air above Edmund's body. "C'mon," she whispered. "C'mon, c'mon, Edmund. C'mon," she begged.

From somewhere outside their circle of light a roar echoed and the two guards flinched to attention. Feeling the urgency of Phi's warning.

Lucy didn't move as she waited, breathlessly. "C'mon, Edmund," she begged again. His wounds stopped bleeding and she gently pushed the flaps of skin closer together. Her hands shook and tears began to gather, though she saw nothing but her brother. "Please, Aslan," she whimpered. When Edmund suddenly drew a deep breath she let out a manic laugh. His body jerked once as though electrocuted before it stilled and rhythmic breaths took up the silence.

He tensed again only to fall completely still and for a heart stopping second Lucy thought he had truly died when a longer pause in breath followed the first.

Then his mouth closed and he swallowed. He breathed deeply through his nose. One breath after another flowed effortlessly in and out and his hands limply sought towards his own body for warmth. Lucy laughed again and realized her own tears were falling steadily. "Edmund!" she called through a sob and reached out for him when he flinched at the sound.

She grabbed his face, ignorant of his blood on her hands. "Edmund, please open your eyes. Look at me," she begged. She was sobbing with every breath, but a smile nearly split her face in two. "Please, look at me."

With the slowest of movements he _did_. Dark eyes peeked out from under blue lids and sought out hers with unerring focus. He mouthed her name, but no sound escaped him.

"It's alright, don't speak," she said through a sobbing laugh. "It's alright," she said as she pulled him close and wrapped her thin arms around his head, hiding her face in his black hair. A weak hand came to rest against her elbow and he closed his eyes in her embrace. "It's alright," she repeated and flinched when Typhos suddenly touched her arm. The other three were facing down the way they had traveled, weapons at the ready.

"Get them up," Gedeminas ordered in a hiss.

"My Queen," Typhos said. "We must hurry," He helped her to her feet and assisted her brother to his feet next.

Edmund swayed between them and let his chin dip against his chest. Content to let his sister and their self-appointed guard lead him, but pushed back weakly when Typhos made to lift him up.

"Edmund, how do you feel?" she asked as they were herded deeper into the tunnel, Gedeminas, Escar and Bilfred hurried along close by.

He hummed in the back of his throat before a nudge informed him that it was not a satisfactory answer. "Loose," he whispered. His eyes were closed, catching only flashes of light as they traversed through the tunnel. Every muscle had unclenched and his spine felt alive with warmth. The skin on his side and upper back felt oddly stretched, but there was no pain.

"What kept you," a timid voice asked, not to him. It was Bilfred, Edmund identified.

"We found Phi," Gedeminas answered in a tense tone.

Lucy stiffened momentarily next to him and Typhos' voice broke through. "He died just as he arrived, Your Majesties. His body was riddled with ash vines."

He sounded regretful, but not fragile in the same way Gedeminas did, Edmund thought, and had a fleeting moment of doubt over who they were talking about. His mind was aflutter, memories a jumbled mess. The name rang a bell, surely, but the intricacies of their conversation passed over his head. Lucy swallowed and reattached herself to his side. "Loose?" she asked him, face close to his ear. Her warmth was pleasing against his side.

He huffed softly and felt a small smile crease his face. "Tired," he allowed and tilted his head towards hers. His skin was warm, but no longer hot with disease and the chill within had abated almost completely. Leaving behind a slight ache, as though dealing with a common cold. But he refused to be carried. Simply refused. Instead he leaned his head further towards hers and felt her forehead come to rest briefly against his.

"I know," she lamented. "We'll find somewhere for you to rest soon," she promised and he hummed in appreciation. "And?" she prodded when he remained silent. He was being led through the tunnels, blindly trusting his companions. Forced to.

A cold spot sent a shiver through him. "A little cold," he whispered and opened his eyes to slivers. Lucy was about to speak, but was interrupted by an alarmed hiss from the last soldier.

"Kill the flame," Gedeminas whispered and plummeted everything into darkness. Lucy and Edmund stopped and froze along with the other four.

Their breaths were tense and fast and Edmund responded instinctively. His eyes opened a bit more and cast a futile look around in the darkness. Chitters sounded back the way they'd come, but far.

"How will we know where to place our feet if we can't see a damn thing?" Typhos hissed.

"We won't," Bilfred answered obliviously.

"Silence," Escar hissed right back.

"Listen," Gedeminas whispered.

Through the dark tunnels now came a faint din of noise ahead of them. Complimenting the noises from their rear. "Do we go back?" Bilfred whispered in abject fear.

No one had the desire to rush back and face the fiends that had undoubtedly killed their last remaining friends, frightened of the realization that they were now truly only six left and that the beasts were closing in. A breath of rotten air, like a sigh from a massive mouth, brought a stench through the twisted tunnels from deeper within the mountain. Sounds of something in the black, farther down, were overshadowed by the distant yowls of enemies that had followed them in.

"We move forward," Gedeminas decided and began inching his way through the perfect darkness. "Hang onto each other," he warned. Sounds of fingers digging into fabric and shuffling feet.

"Did you feel that?" Lucy suddenly whispered in the tense silence and Edmund felt her shiver. She squeezed his arm and let go. He felt her take a step away, but reached out not to lose her completely.

More shrieks sounded from the way back. Hopefully the fiends couldn't figure which of the tunnels the last survivors had taken or would simply give up. Hopefully they'd had their fill of vengeance. Or meat, Edmund groused.

"Lucy?" he whispered almost soundlessly, asking her to elaborate.

"Do you _hear_ that?" Bilfred whispered in terror, asking to the faint sounds they could hear coming from the mountain. Not their would-be assailants.

"Shhht," someone hissed. All stilled as they listened to the noises around them. "They sound far away," Gedeminas whispered eventually. Edmund knew he was more worried about the sounds at their back.

" _Ugh_ , that _smell_ ," Escar groaned.

"Your Highness, keep your voice down," the soldier whispered.

"Is it the fiends?" Bilfred asked.

"That or something else that wants to kill us," he answered.

"We _need_ a flame," Typhos tried again, a steady presence at Edmund's side. His body was a warm and solid comfort in the black. "I don't care what's chasin' us. If I can't see it I can't kill it."

So thick was the darkness that Edmund worried he would never catch any of them if they let him go. "Edmund," Lucy whispered then, in a tiny voice, coming back to her senses.

"What?" he whispered back. So quiet that he doubted that Gedeminas heard.

"Do you _smell_ that?" she asked.

"It's the stench of death, Queen Lucy," Typhos said, his voice a low growl.

"No…" she muttered.

" _Sh_ ," Gedeminas hissed again. "We need to keep _moving_."

"What if it just leads us closer to them?" Escar hissed.

"There's no refuge back there," Gedeminas said and by the sound Edmund assumed the soldier had turned to face their direction. "My Captain gave his life- your workers gave their _lives_ , so that we might see you safely home, Sire."

Escar swallowed so heavily they all heard it. "My brother…" he breathed.

"I know, My Lord," Gedeminas said as though he was holding back a sigh. "So we _must_ continue," All waited a breath. " _Please_."

Escar moved slightly before he spoke. "Alright... Lead the way."

The last, Terebinthian soldier let out a breathy sound and Edmund felt it would have been a scoff at their lack of sight if any had been in a joking mood. "Stay behind me as best you can. Keep your weapons at the ready, but point them down so as not to injure each other," he whispered.

A sound of shifting weapons heralded another bout of forward motion. Edmund gripped his sister tightly lest she slip away. "Lu?" he asked, feeling cut off from her in the dark. There were no more sounds coming from their back, but that was hardly a comfort.

"Can you not smell it, Edmund?" she asked again intently.

"Typhos says its putrefaction," he whispered. In truth the smell was getting sharper, but he stopped fighting it and simply breathed through his mouth.

"It comes in whiffs. I think it's deeper underground," Typhos answered. "Bilfred?"

"Yes," the master miner answered.

"Are you with us, Master?" Typhos asked, attempting to keep them present.

Edmund suspected the large miner felt just as cut off as he did himself and gave Typhos' arm a little squeeze. He suspected he would've fallen if not for the combined, solid presence of him and his sister. "No, it's something else," Lucy interrupted his thoughts.

"Silence!" Gedeminas hissed suddenly and all froze.

Edmund's heart rate exploded as he heard a sudden roar through the tunnels in the direction they were heading. Another followed quickly. "Did that come from ahead?" Escar asked.

"Yes."

More noises followed and a sound of tumbling stones from a long ways away, like the echo of a collapse. "We need light," Escar then agreed with Typhos. "Bilfred, do you have the torch?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Any vines to burn?"

"None. The ground feels firm beneath my feet. Has since the chamber," he said hesitantly.

"Then use your shirt. Light a flame."

"Prince Escar, it's unwise-"

"We need light, Soldier!" Escar hissed. "If not we'll all perish down here."

A slow, ripping sound was followed the crack of stone hitting another. A spark flashed to life and faded, leaving behind a lighter imprint in their eyes. A strike of flint lit another spark, one that caught the dry pieces of cloth and produced a small, reluctant flame. "It won't last," Bilfred warned. "Not without proper fuel."

"We'll use my shirt," Escar said. "When that one runs out."

Edmund saw the master miner nod, ghastly pale and drawn in the weak light. They looked like ghouls, all of them, he thought. Black dirt caked their faces and starvation made their eyes seem wider. "But… Won't they see us, Sire?" Bilfred asked with a searching look at Gedeminas. The soldier had averted his eyes from the torch.

Edmund looked up at Typhos who was wielding the pick like a weapon and was loathed to admit how the light eased some of his worry. A sense of impending doom was reluctantly shaken off as he looked around their most recent stop. They were in another tunnel a ways down the path and ahead it opened up into what looked like a much wider passage. One much taller than the prior.

In fact so wide that the torchlight barely caught the ceiling. A narrow cut, gaping into a wound through the mountain, it appeared. Full of jagged outlines in black rocks that only led one way.

Deeper in.

"Good thing we lit it," Escar suddenly said and pointed down.

Gedeminas, who was at the very front, was already staring a series of ridges in the stone. Some looked to be little more than footholds, whilst others appeared to cut straight through the core of the world.

"You could have fallen through," the prince said to the soldier, giving him an indecipherable look.

Gedeminas shuddered, but composed himself. He looked like a shadow of the man Edmund had seen outside. Weighted by responsibility and death. He nodded and continued on with cautious steps. "Careful," he advised in a thin voice as he edged around a particular gap.

Lucy hopped across and was handed Edmund by Typhos, the two seemingly deciding he needed looking after. He allowed it, relishing in the solid contact from them both. Lucy in particular. As he crossed a gap a deep moan from within became apparent to him. It came from deep in the ground and he looked up at his sister in question. "Was that what you meant?" he asked, referring the wind that flowed out of the gap.

She frowned with her eyes affixed on the crevasse. "No," she whispered and looked at him with a strange expression.

"What _did_ you mean, Queen Lucy?" Bilfred asked quietly as he made his way over with a hand from Typhos.

She resumed her place by her brother's side, one hand around his elbow. "It was almost a smell of fresh air."

"How is something _almost_ a smell?" Typhos grumbled low in his throat.

When she answered it was a muttering to herself, more than an answer. "I don't know."

Sounds from ahead came again. No louder, but no fainter either. All froze and waited for them to abate, aware they were being forced towards one enemy to avoid another. Gedeminas looked back. "I don't like that the others fell quiet," he whispered.

"Pff," Escar scoffed into his clothed arm when another waft of rot reached his nose.

Lucy looked at him curiously, but remained silent. Edmund watched her in unending interest. "Tell me if it comes again," he whispered, wondering how she seemed to not smell the rot, but rather something else.

She caught his eye and nodded, a distant expression in her eyes.

Together they walked through the now alarmingly lit tunnel, worried about things watching from the darkness, but at the same time eased by the fact that they could see. That deep, primordial darkness held at bat.

They walked for what felt like a while, to Edmund, but was in fact only little more than the quarter of an hour. Each of their steps blending together into a soft shuffling through the gloom.

It wasn't long before their whispered attempts at conversation faded away into silence and they all came to a gradual stop. The way ahead seemed to balloon out into an open cavern with pylons, shooting up from uneven ground, and spikes, dripping from the ceiling. Edmund quite thought it looked like sharp teeth in a welcoming mouth and wondered if his fever was making a return.

But the cordial had worked as expected and the toxin had hopefully killed off what traces of the ash vines Lucy couldn't reach. Edmund thought his veins still looked dark in the half-light, but didn't want the others to notice. He still felt the phantom of their previous presence, but didn't linger on it. Whatever happened next would simply be dealt with. _After all_ , he thought optimistically, _Lucy had now done it once_. She could do it again if the need arose, now being the foremost expert in that paticular procedure in this world. He looked around at his compatriots' faces and wondered if any of _them_ were feeling the effects themselves, but were too scared to admit it.

"Well…" Typhos said softly. "Here we are," He looked around aimlessly.

The group looked despondently at the darkness that lay beyond the chamber, for there the paths split into two. One wide and plummeting deeper underground and one narrow. So narrow that the light of their torch did not shine beyond the entrance. "Which one?" Edmund whispered.

Bilfred carried the torch next to Gedeminas, but neither of those two answered.

"The wide one," Escar muttered with dark eyes on the opening. "I say the left," He looked around at the rest of them.

Edmund turned back to the opening after studying the prince, none the wiser. He then turned to his sister. "That feeling turn up again?"

She frowned delicately and shook her head. "No," she whispered.

"Alright," Gedeminas sighed, eyes fixed on the tunnel. "The left one it is."

The group snuck past the pylons and spikes. They walked carefully until the wide cavern closed off behind them by the grace of darkness. "Careful, it's steep," the soldier warned as he crawled down with his sword raised. The tunnel felt to Edmund like the grand hall of a castle, majestic and swooping and reminded him of the people-under-hill.

Bilfred crept down in font of them with nothing but the torch and an anxious expression.

Edmund had been given his sword back, but had not drawn it since they entered the tunnels. Had not had the presence of mind to do so. Their shuffling slips on rough stone echoed hollowly along with occasional drips of something Edmund realized might be water. He looked around, but saw nothing in the darkness.

He felt no moisture on the stones he used as supports on his way down. Just a persevering chill from the stone. "Do you hear that as well?" Typhos asked the group at large.

"Yes," Escar replied. "Might be water."

"Might be something else," Gedeminas joined at the head. "Careful where you place your hands," he cautioned.

Lucy looked down at the black stone, but saw no vines anywhere. "I wonder why they don't grow down here," she whispered.

"Might be the smell," Typhos said with a grimace.

"I don't smell anything," she said with a glance back.

"Be grateful, Your Majesty," he muttered roughly and placed a careful hand on Edmund's back as the boy descended another step.

"It does smell rather foul," Bilfred agreed from the front. "I wonder what produces such a smell."

"What do you smell, Master Miner?" she asked as she hopped down over a large stone slab.

The torchbearer wrinkled his nose. "Something…sour, My Queen."

Lucy frowned again as she had before. "Edmund, do _you_ smell it?"

"A little," he whispered. "Might be waste."

"Waste?" Escar asked.

Edmund turned back to look at the prince. "Urine," he specified.

The prince and Typhos alike paused and stared at him with wide eyes. "Not like any piss I've ever smelled," the roughhewn miner muttered sourly.

Edmund smirked, but stopped suddenly at Bilfred's hiss. "Do you hear that?" he asked. Gedeminas stopped as well with his sword up and dangerous eyes attuned to the darkness ahead.

All listened and heard it then.

Much like before, sounds arose from deep within the tunnel. Sounds of movement and life, but not the life they so desperately sought. Not the comfort of home, nor a promise of shelter or even water, but death. A cold and desolate one, were they to be discovered. In a cruel twist of fate it suddenly seemed as though every little sound was amplified. Every shift they made roared like a tidal wave through the chamber and each worried that their next, deep sigh would herald a swift end. All looked amongst each other with wide-eyed terror, waiting for something to change.

For a last act of courage.

* * *

Susan stood at the mouth of a black abyss. Every digger around her had stopped with whispers of unease, afraid to continue. A structural builder had assessed the obstruction in the cave-wall with the conclusion that it was impenetrable. The mountain was, quite infuriatingly, in the way. Susan had not moved since, preferring to stare at the barrier between her and her prize.

The lack of natural light, the lack of sleep, had made her curt. Had drawn the harsh reality farther from her until her mind hovered in a dislodged state and every emotion she could claim to identify had been enhanced.

She didn't know the time of day, having spent hours in the earthy darkness, nor did she know the fate of Eion or her brother. She wasn't sure she had the capacity to care, so fixated was she on the one obstacle she could not _will_ away. Could not solve with reason. Costar had not left her side. Neither had Hilio or Celer. Both had seemed crestfallen at the news. Hilio had gone so far as to look for other places to expant the cave, trusting in Queen Susan's resolve even if he would never understand its origin.

It was evening when she again stepped outside. Colorful strokes of purple, fuchsia, and flaming orange painted the sky as the last seagulls of the day came home in preparation for nightfall. The serene setting was wildly unhinged from her own state. Unease rippled across her skin like ants and a deep sickness filled her stomach.

A call beckoned her over to the Fauns who had welcomed a guest in their midst. To her surprise it was a Peregrine Falcon, perched on Bacchus' arm.

She looked at Bacchus in question, but he only turned to the Bird with a riveted expression. "Oreius sent me," she chirped and batted her wings once. "I have a present for you, Queen Susan."

On her back she carried a parcel.

"You received it once before, but he felt it wise to remind you of its existence."

Susan's breath swept out of his chest at the implication. She took the parcel when Celer handed it to her and unveiled her horn. It fell into her hand and sat there, innocently. Smaller than she remembered, somehow. And she recalled suddenly the words that had accompanied the giving of _this_ particular gift.

 _And when you put this horn to your lips and blow it, then, wherever you are, I think help of some kind will come to you._

She took a deep breath and rushed back into the cave with her heart pounding. Behind her Celer shot into action as well, crying out to every man or Animal present. "Get everyone out of the cave! Call everyone back!" His authority shocked men out of stupors and exhaustion as all retreated outside. "Everyone. Back!" the captain ordered in a near fervent voice.

Susan watched the last Terebinthians scramble out and found herself alone in front of the dark void. On an inhale she raised the horn to her lips and blew one, lone note into the echoing abyss. At the sound people outside stilled and watched, waited as the reverberations tapered off. Seconds passed until Narnian Animals and the dumb mules suddenly began to shift uneasily, looking at the ground in confusion or bleat at the top of their lungs. The Birds flapped their wings and the Gryphons screeched in sudden agitation.

Then a menacing rumble began to grow.

* * *

Encouragement to move came unexpectedly when Lucy's attention was diverted back in the direction they had come and a strange expression slid across her face. "Lucy?" Edmund whispered. Almost too low for himself to hear, but she did. She turned to him with a sudden widening of her eyes, her blue orbs filling up with tears.

"I recognize the smell," she said clearly. Breath coming quickly.

Escar instantly reacted to her normal volume with a hiss and Gedeminas with a soft gesture. Typhos reached out as well to put his hand on her arm to encourage her to be quiet, but Edmund found himself suddenly unable to care about how much noise they made. "What is it?" he whispered.

"I remember the smell now," she said in a tearful voice. She turned back in the direction they had come and breathed deeply into the black cavern air. "It's the ocean."

Edmund's breath left him in a shocked exhale and he turned to watch the same direction. Looking through the blackness behind them, suddenly reeling from a desire to turn back.

"We need to go back," she said through tears that started to drip down her cheeks. "Don't you smell it?" she asked excitedly, so loud in the long silence that it sounded like a scream. Edmund twitched at the volume and the four men shushed her instantly. "Edmund," she whispered in a more moderate tone, uncaring of the sounds that came with renewed intensity from all around them. They grew in volume as though in response to her shriek. "Do you smell it?" she asked again with a wild look in her eyes and Edmund wished achingly that he _could_.

He shook his head and frowned when Lucy's face curled in a sour pout before a fragile sob quivered through her. She started visibly shaking. "We-we need to go back," she whimpered and gripped her brother's arm. She turned to him with such fear or fervor in her eyes that Edmund's heart began thumping.

"Your Majesties, quiet," Gedeminas warned. He had out a hand as though to sooth her into silence, knowing that a reprimand would be unacceptable. Bilfred and Escar drew closer as well, but Lucy hardly seemed to sense it.

Fixed on their way back. "We _need_ to go back," she said in a low, certain voice.

Edmund spent one, panicked second hesitating before everything snapped into place. Every valve opened and every curve of his being aligned in single-minded conviction. Blood once again pumping the right direction and previous fears allayed. "Then let's go," he whispered and grabbed her arm. She smiled in surprise and he nodded to encourage her. In two steps they were beyond Typhos' reach and with a warning glare they avoided Escar's. "Follow or not," he said in a normal tone, with a meaningful glance towards the rising din of noise coming from both front and rear. A sound they could feel like a second skin, drawing closer.

Caution wouldn't matter anyway.

The fiends knew they were here. Moving in from both directions. Edmund hopped up a step and assisted his sister, taking her hand as she scaled one of the stones they had just descended. Without hesitation he left the light of the torch, but was pleased when it appeared again at his back. The men were following, scrambling as the incoherent noises became punctuated by roars and shrieks much closer than before.

The desire to leave became like the quiver of a quarry as it fled from larger predators, a need to survive, but his steps were steady even in the half light. His sister was close, her hale hand in his as they climbed higher and more eagerly with each passing second. Retracing their steps _up_.

As the sounds increased from below Edmund cleared a rock and stepped onto even ground. They were back in the last chamber. He looked towards the unexplored tunnel and knew she would choose it before she did. She breathed deeply and a smile erupted across her face. "I knew it!" she screeched.

A screech from below joined one from above, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Edmund, I knew it!" she laughed and began running down the tunnel to the right. Uncaring that her laughter was uncannily echoed off the cavern walls. The right tunnel was twisted and narrow with slow moving vines, caressing moist corners every few yards. She crawled when she couldn't jump and shook off the lingering touches of the plants with a single-minded focus. "This way," she called.

"Typhos, the torch," Gedeminas ordered at their rear as a scream echoed too closely behind them.

"Gods," Bilfred stuttered as he panted to try and keep the pace.

"It smells like the ocean," Lucy said breathlessly as she scaled another toppled stone. Edmund was two paces behind her, focused only on what was in front of them when a much louder roar ripped through the tunnels.

So close the hairs on the backs of their necks stood up. Edmund and Lucy froze and stared back in the direction, only to discover Escar and Gedeminas were gone. "Where are they?" Edmund asked Typhos.

He shook his head and put up a hand to urge them on. "Master?"

"I'm fine," Bilfred promised when he climbed up next to Edmund. "Keep moving, Majesties."

Behind him Lucy shot back in action, but Edmund looked at Typhos in stricken realization. "I'm sorry," he breathed, but the miner shook his head.

"Don't think. _Move_ ," he forcefully pushed Edmund up another step.

Then came sounds of battle. Swords clashing and more infuriated screams that made Edmund's heart leap into his throat. "Go, Lucy!" he pushed her ahead when deep roars came from close behind them. "Move," he yelled as the two of them began running up and down the rocks. Daringly hopping over gaps like mountain goats.

"Typhos," Gedeminas suddenly screamed from the darkness. So panicked that the remaining four stopped again and held their breaths.

"Was that him?" Edmund cried in a panic, torn about going back to help or continuing. "Typhos, was it _him_?"

The miner spent another second in doubt before he made up his mind. "No. _Move!_ " He pushed just as a gentle clicking sounded directly behind them. Black cat-eyes in an elongated face reared up behind the miner so fast that Edmund barely had time to inhale. Bilfred, belying his weakened presence, pushed Typhos aside just as the creature cut a downward motion through the air. Long, straight claws carved though the master miner and a gush of blood dappled its pale skin. It sneered and looked at the remaining three.

Typhos reacted without thought and swung the torch at the beast. It reared back with a terrible, half-human scream, but allowed the miner to scramble to his feet. "Run!" he screamed at Edmund and Lucy, who turned in a flurry.

They cleared another rock to the sounds of shrieks from every strike Typhos landed. Pain filled wails that instinctively struck compassion, betraying the true nature of the monster that uttered them. "Edmund, look!" Lucy cried and pointed through the air. He glanced back when the fiend screamed again in that infuriatingly half-human manner, missing what Lucy had seen.

But when he turned again and started running, a glimmer of light flashed for a mere second, so bright Edmund was certain it was sunlight. "The sun is up!" Lucy cried through tears as she ran even faster through the tunnel.

They heard yowls from many more creatures descended upon whoever was left behind, but neither of them stopped. "It's dawn," Edmund panted, intending to yell, but barely managing a whisper. His body was beginning to fail him. His arms and legs shook uncontrollably and his breathing was reduced to frantic panting. His eyes were watering, blurring treacherously jagged edges, but for every misstep he fought back up and pushed a hand against Lucy's back. Letting her know he was still there. Still running.

A human scream of denial split the air behind them, but all they spared was a lightning glance back. The pinprick of light was steady now, burning through the darkness like a beacon of hope. Spurring them on with promises of clear air as ever more gusts of wind swept through the tunnel from its source. Edmund breathed once though his nose and was struck by the smell.

It was indeed ocean as Lucy said. As familiar to him as the feel of his own bed.

" _Hurry!_ " she cried as she reached a flat plane and paused only as long as it took her brother to scramble after her before she grabbed his hand and set off in a dead sprint.

The darkness was supplaced with a white glow and Edmund realized they were _so_ close. Dawn promised salvation. It promised respite. An end to their escape. And he raced towards that glimmer of hope with every ounce of energy he had left, praying for the lives that had been sacrificed to spare the two of them. Suddenly _determined_ to escape, with the deceitful promise that this _one_ day would be their eternal salvation. All problems would vanish if they just… just _one_ more step.

" _Edmund,_ " someone cried behind them, but neither turned to look as a horrific rumbling rose up through the tunnel.

"No…" he panted when tremors in the ground began to shake loose the smallest stones in preparation for unleashed violence.

" _Keep moving!_ " the same person screamed behind them.

But Edmund's foot slipped and his knee gave out, plummeting him into the ground, chin first. Lucy skated to a stop and collapsed when a huge stone shifted immediately to her right. She screamed when it released a second collapse and covered her head with her hands to avoid the blast of dust that sailed over her small form. Burying her face in the ground to keep from getting hit. Edmund wasn't aware of screaming as falling stones dotted their bright escape route, but jolted when two rough hands yanked him into an unforgiving grasp. Time suddenly snapping back into place.

He was hurtled past Lucy, half-carried half-thrown, but saw Gedeminas of all people pull his sister into his arms as he raced after Typhos. Whom it _was_ , he realized with awe, holding him so he had no choice but watch as the path behind them collapsed. Massive stones fell inches behind Lucy and Gedeminas and all around them, but every step dodged another.

He was no longer breathing properly, panting irregularly in terror as a pale fiend rushed through the collapsing tunnels, peeking around falling stones as it hurled itself after them with a furious roar and reaching hands. They had too many joints, their hands, he noted absently as his body began to float away in the chaos.

He was jolted again when Typhos was suddenly pitched to the ground by a monstrous tremor. They skated several meters, ground burning against their skin as they did. Typhos' deep voice bellowed in agony, but the man was up only seconds after falling. Already heading to pull Edmund from the ground. Gedeminas paused only long enough to see Edmund be yanked off his feet before he hurried out with Lucy tucked in his arms. She was wrapped around him like a monkey, arms and legs tightly wound around his torso and face buried in his shoulder.

"Edmund!" she screamed.

"We're coming– _keep going_!" Typhos yelled and barreled through another adjacent collapse. It sent dust through the air, so thick it was hard to breathe.

The beast screamed in rage behind them and reared up on its feet, crawling over settling stones at a frightening pace. Only barred from reaching them every other second by another conveniently falling stone or shifting boulder. Typhos propelled him forward, over a ridge and followed instantly, barely dodging a frantic swipe from the creature.

A boulder rolled into the tunnel directly in front of him and Edmund, blocking their way almost entirely. Lucy's screams behind it ripped at his heart, but the creature saw its chance and scrambled towards Typhos. The large miner scooted back until Edmund was pushed flush against the rock and Typhos' body.

The fiend scrambled up a stone, tripped, scrambled closer. So lethally fast and determined. A clawed hand reached out to yank Typhos leg when a second shift brought a rock as large as a bear down on top of the creature. Stopping it instantly. _Finally_. It seemed then as though the entire mountain fell silent. The tremors settled.

Edmund was panting and his hands were fisting chunks of Typhos shirt, pulling the large man closer.

" _Oh no-_ _Edmund!_ " Lucy cried from the other side of the boulder. She was sobbing he realized.

"Lucy!" he wailed back, beginning to push against his protector. There was a gap near the ceiling where the boulder had dislodged. The deeper part of the tunnel was now sealed, he realized. Possibly their exit as well.

Typhos kept him trapped with strong hands against the boulder as he waited for the tunnel to settle completely. "Hold!" he cried, no doubt urging Gedeminas and Lucy to stop moving as well.

With a few lingering shifts of bedrock and soil, the mountain quieted. The panic-inducing rumble fell to a hum and then to nothing. Both Typhos and Edmund panted as they leaned against the blockade. Edmund swallowed and beathed a bit more, trying to see through the darkness, and get his panic under control. He swallowed again and made to push Typhos off him. This time the miner allowed it, leaning forward and twisting away from the young boy. Placing both hands on his shoulders only to resettle on his cheeks. "King Edmund," he breathed in relief. His hands continually grabbing and clenching Edmund's face, shoulders and upper arms.

"I'm fine," he breathed. "I'm fine, I'm fine," His voice shook. The darkness was once again nearly complete.

" _Edmund_!" Lucy called again from the other side.

"Lucy!" he returned, pushing up to stand against the boulder.

Typhos kept a large hand on his shoulder for support. "The exit's blocked," she called. She sounded devastated.

"Are you alright?" he asked instead.

"Yes," Gedeminas answered. "We're unharmed."

Edmund looked at Typhos and at the same time felt a hot sting above his brow. He wondered how true Gedeminas' statement was, but decided to leave it until he could see for himself. Later. They would deal with threat of infection _later_. For now all that mattered was sunlight. "We need to cross," he said.

Typhos looked up at the boulder. "I think there's a cavity, Yer Majes'ty," He pointed upwards where a slightly darker shadow supplaced that of grey stone. He was still breathing heavily from their frantic escape, but seemed somewhat settled.

"Alright," Edmund nodded and inhaled through his nose. He touched the stone in their way. It was rather smooth with no leverage to climb, but a small avalanche of rubble had fallen mere inches to their left. Creating a small hill for them. Edmund crawled over and instantly started climbing. "Give me a hand."

Typhos pushed him up so Edmund could reach into the suspected cavity. "Lucy," he yelled again, voice traveling clearly through the gap.

"King Edmund," Gedeminas' voice came seconds after, much closer than Edmund was prepared for. Buried in darkness, but not rubble. "Can you fit?" A slightly darker shape against the once more all-consuming black stood out as the soldier in question.

"Easily. Typhos will too. We'll come to you," he promised with a glance back though he couldn't see a thing. "Are you with me, Master Miner?" he asked in an echo to Typhos' own, earlier question.

"I'm here, Sire."

Edmund smiled through tears that refused to stop flowing and pushed up into the crawlspace, sliding across his stomach until his hands grabbed open space. "Whoa-" He was about to tip forward when strong hands supported him and gently levered him out of the opening.

"Easy, King Edmund," Gedeminas muttered as he put the king down amongst the fallen rocks, into the waiting arms of his sister. She began weeping the second she touched him and drew him close, not a hair's breadth between them.

Edmund was lowered to the ground next to her and folded all his limbs around her. Wrapping his legs up and drawing her closer as her sobs rocked through them both. "Easy, easy," he soothed, voice still shaking, beginning to pet her hair without thinking about it. He sniffed intermittently as more tears crawled down his cheeks.

He jolted when another set of arms, much stronger and thicker, encircled them both from behind. And yet another set joined until he realized he and his sister were cocooned in Gedeminas' and Typhos' arms both. Sitting on the ground in the pitch black as their little queen cried her heart out and the three men sniffed intermittently.

Edmund let out a delirious laugh. The first in days.

* * *

TBC

 _Sorry it took longer, but it was **such** a long chapter all of a sudden! I love you for sticking with me :*_


	20. On Foreign Ground

_A/N: Thank you to all the readers, lurkers, and reviewers! We're approaching another ending (In a few chapters' time) and I am, as ever, eager to hear your thoughts. There's been a request for me to post my original characters, which I'll do on my bio. It's a long list, but don't be scared. I'll try to be diligent in my descriptions in the future :*_

 _Oh shit! Fun tid-bit that would'a been REALLY helpful had you recieved it earlier: BUT there are a lotta reasons why this story is set in the year 1003, but a consequence is that the whole Rabadash-debacle hasn't happened yet :P Pay special mind to Peter's comment later on. Meheee...Well okay so maybe it's not really **that** funny._

 _...but still X'D_

* * *

Chapter 20: On Foreign Ground

The _Halcyon_ set shore against the king's landing at Eion's waterfront and Oreius was the first one off ship. Queen Lucy's vessel, the _Ouranios_ , had been quick to follow, joining the Galmian _Dæios_. Helios' ship.

Word had spread throughout the city of the tragedies that had befallen the royal family, as well as the families of the miners, and the city had been left vacant for it.

"All have departed east by a common trade route," Helios announced regretfully as he stood to receive the lord-protector of Dawn and the general of the Narnian Royal Army. "Lord Ayel Maeon-Tal," He bowed, "General Oreius," and bowed again.

Both nodded to him and cast searching eyes on the city they had so far only observed at a distance. It smelled of the ocean and of salted fish, as well as a distinct odor of laboring beasts and humans. But it was silent. Cries of persistent seagulls and low mutters of men disembarking the three ships were the only sounds to fill the port that day.

"The castle lays silent," Oreius commented with his eyes turned to the Storm.

"My second and third mate should be there," Binya, captain of the _Ouranios_ , said.

"So should the King," Oreius joined with a grim frown. He wondered if the High King had kept his present and patient mind. The general knew his young sovereigns' tendency to forge ahead, but was leery of enquiring about it in the presence of the Galmian duke.

"Do you wish to see it, General?" Helios asked.

Oreius glanced at him and back at the duke. "My men have been tasked with restocking the _Halcyon_ , Your Lordship,"

"Mine as well," Binya said. "Assuming there's anyone left to buy from," he added with a surly, pointed look around the city.

None of the others commented and so Helios cleared his throat. "Allow me," he said to Oreius, Ayel, and Binya before preceding them up the road to the castle. A small gathering of Narnian and Galmian soldiers following in their wake.

* * *

Susan watched in terror as a deep shuddering began within the mountain. Flocks of birds lifted from their nests along the cliffs as the ground began to tremble. "No," she breathed and took a step closer. What had she done? She looked up as the mountain quivered and a cloud of brown dust billowed out through the opening. Voices exclaiming in shock.

Agitated murmurs began among the crowds as they withdrew and only Celer's hands on her shoulders made Susan retreat as well, for she would not have otherwise. "Celer," she whispered with her eyes fixed upon the opening that still remained open despite the quake. "It was me-"

"Peace, Queen Susan," he muttered. Unbeknownst to her he was casting watchful eyes at all who had gathered, though most seemed to be watching the cave for signs of life. "We are all still hopeful."

"But it's my fault-" she stuttered through tears that began to gather in her eyes. "Oh Aslan, what have I _done_ -" Her hand came to cover her mouth.

"Shh, My Queen," he urged in a low voice, eyes still shifting to those around them. He caught Costar's eyes and gave a subtle nod. The Tiger joined him in observing the gathered crowds as the murmurs became more tense and fearful. "It's still settling and the entrance is still open."

"If they're inside-"

"They _are_. I _promise_ they are," he said in a determined voice. " _Alive_."

* * *

Edmund coughed a bit at the pervasive tickle in the back if this throat. His eyes were watering in the darkness. He kept wiping them but had a sneaking suspicion that his attempts only rubbed more dirt on his face. He heard Gedeminas sneeze away from them.

"Should we attempt to stand, Your Majesties?" Typhos asked.

They were all huddled on the floor in a heap, so far removed from proper etiquette. Edmund nodded before he remembered not all would feel it. "Yes," he whispered. "Lucy?"

"Hm?"

"Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," she replied in a small, exhausted voice.

"Alright," Gedeminas announced and dislodged himself from the hug. "We should keep close together and try to find the exit. Excavate it. I think that's our safest bet."

Edmund agreed with another unseen nod.

"Alright," Typhos said out loud.

They formed a line, each holding another's hand, and made their way towards the glimpse of sunlight Lucy had seen. "What if the entrance is collapsed?" she asked as they walked carefully over fallen debris.

"We'll have to dig our way out, Queen Lucy," Typhos answered.

Edmund nodded to himself at the reply, thankful that they still had their miner to guide them. The task of relocating bedrock was made to seem as just another chore as opposed to an immovable obstacle. It made their condition less bleak and spawned a warmth near his heart. "Did you really smell the ocean?" he asked in a lighter voice than he really had the energy for. Attempting to lessen whatever burden his sister was carrying.

"I thought I did," she said forlornly.

" _I_ think you did," he promised. "Even if _we_ didn't."

He could almost sense as her attention was placed on him. "Really?" she asked with such aching hope that his heart swelled.

"Really, Lucy. I've believed you since the day I stepped through Wardrobe," It no longer triggered distinct memories of the British countryside, but rather a sensed difference of being. "Even if I didn't want to admit it," he added with a small grin.

The four of them had been less back in England. Smaller and more vulnerable. Narnia had made them bigger somehow. Stronger and more capable, but also more accountable.

"Are you sure?" she asked, as though searching for an untruth. As though afraid of letting that little hope in her heart flap its wings and take flight.

"Positive, Lu," he promised, not determinedly or brashly, but in a soft, steady voice. "I believe in you."

A little sniffle sounded through the darkness and her hand clenched his briefly. It heated up as well. He pulled it, and her, closer to him. Mindful of keeping them both balanced, but needed to feel her there. Needed to know she was still with him.

"And you did _so_ well with the vines," he added in a tearful voice.

She sniffed wetly through a little, bubbling laugh. He knew she was crying now fully. She attempted to be brave, as was her nature, but a sob forced its way out of her and shook her little body to the core. "Aw, Lucy," he whispered and dislodged gently from Typhos' grip to fold his arms around her. He held her as her shoulder shook a few times and didn't let go until she raised her head. Even then he only leaned back far enough to place a kiss on her forehead and when he next took her to guide them forward his fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist. Holding and being held in return.

"Are you ready, King Edmund?" Typhos whispered and found his hand in the darkness.

Edmund whispered out a hoarse 'yes' and was led forward, cautiously through the dark. Toward a former light that was now nothing but hope.

* * *

"Your Majesty!" Donn cried as he circled above, shocking every creature present out of their daze. "Your Majesty, you must continue," he shouted from above. "Tyr and Jyr see no dust on the horizon. No other collapse within the mountains. You _must_ continue," he repeated as he cried down from his hectic circling.

Susan looked at the gathered masses and back at the cave. The very end of it was still open, but farther in a wave had fallen and sealed the tunnel they had spent hours digging. All their work, their hope, seemed gone in an instant.

To her shock it was not her men, nor was it the royal prince, who lit hope once more. "What are you waiting for?" a weathered man in the crowds shouted. "Onward!" He stormed forward along with those closest to him, all gathering up picks or shovels to reopen what had been lost in an almost frenzied manner. Susan watched them as tears rolled down her cheeks. Her chest swelled with an indefinable feeling, but one so strong her breathing sped up because of it. She watched as lines formed to clear out the debris and repair what had been taken from them. She watched every single beind there, help.

By her side, prince Hilio and he Narnians came to stand. Watching the repeated progress of a dozen men and women working at a nearly maddened pace to force their way into the darkness. Looking for _something_ , all of them, just as she was. Looking with _nothing_ but _hope_ to bolster their efforts.

* * *

"King Edmund," Gedeminas whispered suddenly.

Edmund was about to reply when suddenly a blinding flash of light lit up the end of the tunnel. It blinked out only to reappear brighter than before. "Lucy," he breathed as the four of them stopped and watched the strange spectacle.

It was as though peering through water, light and sound distorting now and again. "What is that?" Typhos whispered with his wide eyes fixed on the strange sight.

"It must be the exit," Gedeminas muttered. "It must be."

Edmund glanced at Lucy who was breathing heavily through re-appearing tears. "Edmund," she said. "Edmund, it's home."

A deep ache opened up in his chest, so fierce that its loss would cripple him. Thus, watching as the light became clearer and brighter, as the cavity grew wider in their near distance, he denied it. _It couldn't be_ , he told himself as he began walking forwards. Lucy and the two men followed close behind. _It can't be_ , he soothed his own unraveling mind.

"Edmund," Lucy said again, she grabbed is hand and spurred them on. Skipping over stones and nearly stumbling every other step in her vigor. "Edmund, it's home," she shrieked.

And yet he refused it with every ounce of will. It couldn't be, he thought simply. His sister laughed, a wild and unfettered sound as she rushed through the brightening darkness to where the black gave way to gray. Even as they approached and voices began to fill the dark tunnel, he repeated it to himself. _It can't be_ , his mind promised even as tears gathered in his eyes. _It can't be, it can't be_ , he muttered as he rushed in his sister's footsteps. Closer and closer.

The men at work called out and stopped, some jolting violently, when the four stumbled closer. Blind and deaf to the _human_ voices.

 _It can't be_ , it promised. Soothing his fragile heart for when it was all inevitably taken away.

"Oh _Aslan_ ," Lucy sobbed and laughed all at once. She was running, Edmund dragged right along with her as they stepped into a brighter world. First pale, as the walls of their tomb expanded and men and women stood out in the dazzling glow of a pale sun.

 _Not yellow_.

"It's home!" Lucy cried, nearly breathless with relief. They ran through the tunnel, among the stunned men and women watching. Mouths falling open and eyes tearing up, voices carrying. The grey world exploded into color and the most magnificent senses. _Wind_ blew through their hair and brought with it a new smell. One not dusty or stale. One not soured by rot. But a fresh wind, a _wild_ wind.

And just as the pale pre-noon sun beamed down upon the four, weary travelers, did Edmund pause. He blinked through the abrupt blindness and stared at the milling faces around them. Those who had been inside came out, and those outside stopped to stare. "It can't be," he whispered even as he breathed deeply and took in the smells and sights and _sounds_! Seagulls were screaming not far away. Sounds of metal tools being dropped echoed through mighty, grey cliffs. Green lichen dappled the rock face and brown soil was smeared at the bottom of the ravine.

Soft and malleable as their sore feet sank into it.

Shoulders dropped and tears began to fall as he watched the abject shock on the faces of the men and women. A wild feeling burst out of him and with it an unstoppable laugh. Delirious and wild.

He stood, openmouthed and full of wonder, as people began to _realize_ what they were seeing. And suddenly a frightened voice cut clean through all that windsight _sound!_ silencing it all. _  
_

"Edmund?" So small and yet so clear that it quieted the very nature around its source.

Lucy was the first to react – of _course_ she was – with a frenzied cry. Fear and relief mixed into one. "Susan!" she cried and jolted across the ground on swift, little feet to launch herself into the waiting arms of her sister. "Susan!" she cried again even as she was lifted off the ground by her sister's stronger arms. "Susansusan _susan_!" Her last yell bore the sound of tears and prompted Edmund back into action.

He stumbled weakly closer, at first, but then jolted forward in a near leap. He fell into his older sister's arms just as she reached out for him, holding Lucy as well. He knocked into them and almost bowled them over, but was saved by Susan as she braced a leg to balance them. Her arms wrapped around the back of his head and eager fingers ran across his scalp. Stirring the limp, dust-mottled hair as she began weeping. Long, painful sobs that shook all three siblings. All three were crying, but in his life Edmund didn't think he'd ever been happier.

* * *

At the first sight of her siblings Susan didn't know quite _what_ to believe. So ragged were they, their two companions too, so foreign in appearance that she hardly recognized either of them until Lucy stopped and looked her straight in the eye. Her little sister was caked in dirt and grime. So desolate an expression and her hands clenching at nothing. Such wide eyes.

Susan's heart clenched in her chest when she took in Edmund's appearance and found him equally fragile. "Edmund?" An aborted motion towards her siblings spurred the youngest into action as Lucy propelled herself towards her sister with a desperation Susan could not recall having ever seen before. She launched herself at Susan with a terrified cry of her name and repeated it like a mantra once they latched onto each other. But her fear didn't ease from being in her older sister's arms. If anything it seemed to grow with every utterance of Susan's name as the frightened, little bundle clung to the elder and sobbed her name over and over again.

She didn't sense Edmund until he was within reach, moving as fast as his sister had. With that same desperation. He launched himself at them and Susan opened her arms to welcome him in.

Around them people began talking rapidly amongst themselves.

 _They are so few_. _Where are the rest? Lion, what happened?_

Were asked again and again until their questions fell together in an indistinguishable din of sound. Susan closed her eyes and breathed to quell the fierce surge of emotions, relief chief among them. She failed to notice the actions of her guards as they crept around the royals in a watchful circle. Wary and anxious as they watched the people of Terebinthia and protected their rulers.

* * *

Young Emery Vandrer, the Peregrine Falcon entrusted with the queen's horn, had flown from her perch the instant she saw the royals reunited. Her slender wings pushed her rapidly into the air where powerful thrusts of oceanic wind aided in her return to the Storm.

Almost an hour had passed until she glanced behind her and discovered she had a stalker in her wake. Her shock was so great, in fact, due to the appearance of her companion that she for a second feared for her life. It was the Eagle Tyr, all soft feathers and youth and exuberance, that was soaring behind her. Keen eyes scouting the heavens and below for possible threats against the both of them. As though he knew her reason for leaving.

Emery clacked her beak in a Falcon's laugh. Tyr's mother had most likely told him to follow, sensing Emery's intentions, and the proud Falcon sent a thought of appreciation for the larger Eagle, at her clear-headedness. It was rare to see such initiative in the larger Birds. The smaller hunters, such as herself, were known for their independence and resourcefulness, but it pleased Emery greatly to see some of the same initiative in her larger cousins as well. Never having met one before her Terebinthian adventure.

Her beak clacked a second time as she put on a burst of speed, determined to reach the Storm before nightfall.

* * *

Peter had fallen quiet and contemplative after their efforts to quell the crowd outside the castle. It had been partially successful, resulting in a quieted group of civilians that nevertheless refused to leave the grounds. Without a display of force there would be no changing their minds and Queen Hira had in her wisdom decided to let most of them stay. They had been given reprieve and had been invited inside the castle as everyone waited for news.

Peter had no idea if his promises _would_ be fulfilled, having herd no news despite his reassurances to the contrary. The gambit would prove to either be their salvation or their downfall. Now joined by Oreius and a small troop of friendly allies, Peter at least felt assured that the residents within the castle could be subdued or protected should the need arise. He wasn't so sure he _wanted_ to help anyone however, the sense of loss having dimmed his usual compassion.

 _You're turning into me_ , Edmund's smililng visage flashed through hid mind. He huffed through a smile, but sobered when someone approached.

General Oreius' hooves clapped against the stone floor as the Centaur made his way over. Peter's hands were in front of his face in prayer-like pose, almost as though waiting for Aslan to speak.

He didn't glance up until the general uncharacteristically lowered his equine half onto the settee Peter also occupied, almost tipping the divan in the process. The young king straightened and looked at his mentor in surprise, hands coming to rest on his thighs. "General?" he asked softly.

Oreius sighed. Narnians had been placed at strategic points throughout the grand hall, now occupied by civilians and soldiers of Terebinthian, Galmian, and Narnian descent. It made for a colorful display of armor, Peter thought. "Luz Tarkaan escaped."

At the distinct note of humor in his general's voice Peter snorted. _Escaped, yes_. Without looking over Oreius and Peter both smiled. "Has the Tisroc been alerted?"

"A courier was sent this morning. The mighty Tisroc will no doubt have words with his son about all of this."

"Let's hope it doesn't become a habit," Peter muttered, eyes staring vacantly into the hall. Filled up with people of all sorts. _Creatures_. Most humans were wary about looking too closely at the Narnians, but Peter had the distinct feeling that not many of his subjects cared either way.

"They worry," Oreius said, now looking fully at Peter.

The king looked up at the Centaur, who was still taller than him even seated. "About what?"

"The same thing that worries _you_ , Your Majesty."

Peter smirked and returned his stare to the slowly milling crowds. "How is it you always know what to say?"

To his credit the Centaur didn't reply, merely glancing downward with a quick smile before settling back into silence.

Peter picked up a train of thought. "How was Mallo?"

"Her Eminence seems well," he answered diplomatically.

Peter nodded. "It's been awhile since I've spoken with her."

"She asked about you," he said and looked over.

"And what did you tell her?" he asked openly.

"Nothing she did not already feel herself," he answered with a smile.

Peter gazed at the crowds and watched as the ladies in waiting to queen Hira meandered amongst the civilians. Offering blankets and a meal. "Do you think they'll change after this?" he asked, referring to the king and queen. Heck, the entire island.

Oreius looked out over the crowds as well, with a mild frown. "I think change is inevitable, Sire."

Peter sighed.

"And _good_ ," the Centaur concluded with a pointed look at his king.

Peter returned it and allowed his mentor to study him. "All is as it should be then?"

Oreius sighed, seeming to settle something within himself. "It will be."

"King Peter!" a page called anxiously, calling attention to himself from everyone in the room. "Your Majesty!"

Peter stood, alarmed at the man's countenance. "What is it?"

"An _Eagle_ , Sire- A … _grand_ Eagle has landed."

The general and the king shared a look before both hurried outside. Eager to hear whatever news it brought.

* * *

The world passed him by in a blur. Vanishing like snowflakes beneath a harrowing wind. He felt much like a snowflake in that storm, he pondered. Whisked about without much control or thought to where he was going. Lucy was beside him. Susan had promised she wouldn't leave either.

That meant land-travel. That meant a longer time getting back, through a range of mountains. Mountains that appeared almost purple at their peaks. It struck him that it was their natural shade. Not yellow or pale like bef- _Not_ _pale_. But a dusty, violet that kissed the soft, blue sky when he stared up at them. He saw Eagles and Gryphons soaring by so high up, once in a while. They were following the royal cortege back to the Storm.

Guarding.

* * *

It was in fact a Falcon who carried a message. One Peter accepted with a great, heaving relief that brought him to his knees in the middle of the courtyard. Tears gathered in his eyes and he felt a heavy hand land on the crown of his head.

He bowed his neck and closed his eyes as fierce gratitude sang through him. When he stood the world was remarkably different. His limbs were lighter and his head swam. A smile kept alighting his face every other second.

The message from Emery said four survivors. Four out of twenty five. A staggering loss, but not a complete one. Not when Edmund and Lucy could still walk away from it. Nothing was lost so long as his family was safe. Hale and healthy. He let out a bubbling laugh that was perhaps a sob. If so none of the gathered commented.

"King Peter?" Queen Hira called for him as he turned. She had overheard the message and at once Peter's relief was tempered.

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," he allowed in a soft voice as he approached her. She had shrunken somehow and now looked smaller than she had when they first met. He hesitated before he reached out and grasped her hands in his. She was shaking.

She opened her mouth as though to speak, but closed it rather quickly. Eyes averted to the ground.

A bit away stood her daughters in law and her three grandchildren. All looked as though their world had been ripped away beneath them. The oldest girl, daughter of Bastian, watched him through eyes that seemed far too wide. Brimming with tears. In lieu of the queen's aborted reply Peter drew a breath to fill the silence. "Do you need my assistance, Queen Hira?" He leaned close and asked it to her in a low voice. "Do you need my help to speak with your husband?"

Her eyes filled with something other than despair and she shook her head. "No," she rasped out and shook the hands that still gripped hers. "No, Your Majesty. Go find the rulers of Narnia."

She released him without another word, leaving him a little stunned, and began a somber walk away from them all. Heading back inside as the crowds parted for her.

Silence fell over the gathered as each man or woman reacted to the news from the Falcon and the distraught countenance of their queen, but through it all Peter's heart was pounding. He caught Helios' eyes and smiled very faintly when he received a curt nod. He would take Hira's advice and withdraw from what was surely to be a devastating loss for the island. He would rush and forget his responsibilities. Just until he could see them both again – all _three_ of them – and hold them in his arms. _Then_ he would return. Stronger than before.

He nodded once more to himself and turned back to the Eagle Tyr. He was young, not yet fully grown, but _strong_. Fit enough to carry a man.

Peter felt certain the Bird would gladly grant him this one favor.

* * *

Susan had received a surprising hand from Manon, as the large Gryphon offered his back to the two, youngest sovereigns for the passage between the cave and the closest village. The two could fit snugly in between its large wings, warm and safe as they _walked_ along the eastern mountain range. A small township lay within the range, through a well-traveled path where they could acquire a carriage. The coastal city of Sresh.

Until then Susan had decided to walk next to her siblings by the Gryphon's side. Holding Lucy's small hand in hers as the young girl reached down, almost unconsciously, as Edmund lay against her back. Both of them worn out only minutes after Manon set off in a rocking gait.

The two Terebinthians who had stumbled out of the cave along with her siblings had been offered the mules to ride and had gratefully accepted.

So small her siblings looked, Susan thought, with pain lancing through her chest. Never had they looked _so small_. She looked at them as they slept to ensure neither one fell off.

The walk along the coastline took them past a steep dive where violent waves frothed at the bottom and seagulls cried their hungry welcome. It was shorter than anticipated, the trip to Sresh, and carriages were eagerly offered upon arrival, as the group was recieved by warm greetings and caring arms. They were fewer than before, their traveling party, since not all who had joined prince Hilio at the mine was retuning with him and the Narnian sovereigns. Those who remained, eager to make certain the cave was indeed empty. To ensure it was indeed _sealed_.

Lucy had given an inconsistent account through exhausted hiccups and tears gathering in her eyes, until Susan had gently shushed her and stroked her hair. Manon had loosened a rumbling purr, much like that of a Great Cat, as he walked. Working with Susan to lull them to sleep.

In Sresh the two mules were strapped before one carriage and would draw Gedeminas and Typhos. Two more were offered and strapped before the second carriage to draw the three royals. Pillows and blankets were piled into the meagre wagons and Susan wasted no time in bundling her siblings up before she curled up beside them. One in each arm.

As she looked up the strange, little town of Sresh waved them off as they set their western course towards Eion.

It was later the same day, though she knew not how late, when her brother arrived, swooping in on Jyr's twin brother, Tyr. The Eagle deposited him carefully and joined the Gryphons and his kin in the sky above their heads, leaving a wind-blown Peter on the ground. "Susan," he breathed as he strode up to the carriage and saw, for the first time in weeks, his youngest siblings. They were both covered head to toe in grime and bundled in quilts. Though the wounds had received a thorough cleaning they still stood out and vague warnings to watch for a chill on their skin had stayed on Susan's mind.

She knew what worried them all, what fears lurked in the back of her _own_ mind, and had taken care to wash every ounce of dirt around every wound she found. Though the cuts were few in number, their bruises were many. Blue, green and putrid, yellow unfolded under Edmund and Lucy's skin in alarming shades. Down their arms and legs. Her breath had stalled when she first caught glimpse of them, but word from the men to pace her concern made her do just that.

She would wait and observe. Watch for symptoms of anything untoward.

"Oh, Susan," Peter whispered as an errant tear dripped down his cheek.

"It can carry one more," she said in a soft voice, gesturing to the cariage. One hand on each of her siblings' crowns.

Peter leaned in and reached out with aching caution to stroke a strand of hair out of Lucy's face before he oh so lightly ran a finger near the wound on Edmund's brow. "What happened to them?" he whispered as he walked beside them. They must've looked so horrible in his eyes. So worn and frail that he could hardly recognize them anymore than she, and the mere sight of them seemed to break his heart. He looked up at his sister, pleading with her wordlessly.

Emotion clogged Susan's throat as she answered. "Lucy said they'd been somewhere... _else_ ," She swallowed and attempted to make sense of what she had been told. "Another world."

Peter's head shot up and he looked at her though wide eyes. "What?" he whimpered.

A tear ripped free and rolled insolently down Susan's face. "I don't know where," she said with sadness beginning to make its presence known. "The Terebinthians who survived corroborated their story."

"Another world?" Flashes of a cold and grey shadow-world sped across Peter's eyes. Someplace so _loud_. Once home, but now so foreign and almost forgotten.

"Yes. I don't think it's Spare Oom," she added.

The name stuck a chord and more memories flashed by. It had not been a safe place, Spare Oom. It had been haunted by nightly terrors that lit up the skies in pale yellows and ghostly cries in the night, like wailing beasts. Nothing like his fair Narnia at all.

"But wh-where?" he asked with a distinct feeling of unease. He didn't like that they had been away to begin with. He furthermore didn't like that their circumstance had been outside his control. That he hadn't been there to protect them.

Another tear rolled down her cheek as she answered. "I don't know," It wounded her greatly that she couldn't understand fully. That she could not make sense of the account they had given. That it sounded more like a nightmare than a real place.

"But they were trapped in the caves. The mines," he said, almost pleadingly. The carriage was stopped so he could climb on and he did so with a thankful glance at the men who reigned the mules. He settled at their feet.

"She said the caves led to someplace elsewhere," Susan looked back down and stroked the girl's hair lovingly. Almost protectively. "Do you think Aslan can open doors to other worlds, Peter?" she whispered.

Peter paled though his face remained neutral. "He wouldn't do such a thing."

She looked pleadingly at him. "He rules over _all_ of Narnia, Pete-"

"He _wouldn't_."

She swallowed and looked back down and nodded. Deciding then and there that she would henceforth carry her concerns alone. That her brother wouldn't see them. That no one ever would. _It will be our secret, Dearheart_. "They said to keep an eye out for infection," Her voice hardened. She felt it happen. "That the illness of Blue Mine could be in them as well."

Though she hadn't thought it possible, Peter paled further.

She looked up through her lashes and wondered if his thoughts drifted in the same direction as hers. She decided to ask. To better get it out in the open as soon as possible. "I'm sorry," she whispered. His eyes flashed confusion, but she continued before he could speak. "For destroying the Blue Mine," Still uttered in a mere whisper. It had been Celer to carry out the command, she knew. She had figured as much. Hilio who had let him. But the dark thought had been spun in her own mind. The order had come from _her_ and she was now more than ever terrified of the repercussions.

"I know," Peter whispered, blue eyes only resting briefly on hers.

She breathed shakily and looked over the landscape, more tears dripping down her cheeks before she could wipe them away. Several of their Narnian companions were within hearing range, but wandering ears had never bothered her. Her trust in them absolute and unconditional.

"I wouldn't have done the same thing," he said and it tore at her heart just as fast as his next words mended it. "I'm glad it was _you_ and not me who was there."

She looked at him in surprise and paralyzed wonder. Her hands stilled and she watched his face.

His eyes never wavered from hers and this was _why_ – she realized- _this_ was why he made for such a great king. "You chose with your mind, considering more lives than just theirs- ours," He looked as though he wanted to reach out, but the distance was too great.

She wasn't sure she agreed with him, but felt too stunned in the face of his forgiveness to put words to it.

"I trust you, Susan," he said in a low voice, now staring deeply into her eyes. Daring her to look closer and see the truth.

She exhaled then, releasing some previously undetected tension, and decided it wouldn't matter whether or not he fully understood her reasoning. Shifting in her seat she released Edmund's head and reached out a hand that he gladly took. Stretching over their siblings' bodies to grasp it.

They sat as such for a little bit, following the rocking motions of the carriage.

As their siblings slept.

* * *

TBC

 _Thank you for your patience :*_


	21. Within

_A/N: A few more. We're getting so close to being done, can you feel it?_

* * *

Chapter 21: Within

Oreius greeted his returning sons of Adam and daughters of Eve with a sigh of relief. His sword hand unclenched and his tail swished once excitedly, the only part of him that _did_. His relief was greeted with the wary faces of his soldiers and brief nods from his two, eldest sovereigns. The youngest ones still asleep.

"For how long," he asked the Faun Titus as the royals were situated in the readymade rooms of the Storm.

The Faun looked exhausted, but pleased. Likely to fret sooner rather than later, as was his nature, but for now content at mildly worried. "For almost a full day," He glanced up at his general. "I doubt they'll wake before the morn."

"Have they eaten?" Oreius asked, though he felt quite sure of the answer.

"No, General," Titus said regrettably. "They swallowed a little water in their sleep, but could not be persuaded to drink much."

Oreius nodded and watched Susan order a page to put Edmund in his own room before guiding Peter, who carried Lucy, into the same. They would sleep together, Oreius knew, in times of unease or mourning. He wondered perhaps if it was a uniquely human aspect, but felt more certain with each day that it was a _Peter-Susan-Edmund-Lucy_ aspect. That it was part of what made them strong and kind in the face of adversity.

He looked around at the eyes of the Creatures and Animals and smiled softly. Most returned it. They felt as he, in some way or another, that a piece of themselves had returned. They felt comforted after such a long period of grief and worry. Once again safe, as their kings and queens were safe.

The two nymphs stood solemnly beside him and the fairer one smiled as the doors to King Edmund's chamber slid closed.

* * *

Susan settled herself with an inquisitive look at her older brother when he claimed a chair next to the bed.

He caught her eye as he settled, and noticed the unasked question. "I'll keep watch," He felt both settled and unsettled. Alert and asleep. Neither and both. He ran a dry hand down his face and reveled at the sensation of blood rushing up under his skin.

"Do you want me to stay awake with you?" Susan asked though each blink was heavier than the last.

He smiled in a moment's tenderness. "No. Go to sleep," The command was softly spoken. He felt it wise to speak softly for a while henceforth around her. To tread carefully and watch closely. Because even as Susan nodded and settled deeper into the bed he knew she was not alright. Neither was he, nor were their siblings, but Peter had the privilege of being the oldest. Their protector. It was a task he would not relinquish under threat of death - or insomnia, as it were - and it was a duty he had so far in his reign never neglected.

As the three of them slept, once in a while stirring in the throes of a dream, he felt warmth in his chest. A soothing heat, not put there by any one thing, but rather by the knowledge that they were all back. Safe for a little bit.

The night passed in silence, by the flickering light of a lone candle. Once did the door open to a weary Celer, but Peter only acknowledged him with a nod before returning his eyes to his siblings. His hand found his chin and he pondered the aftermath. How it would affect them all.

Come morning he was, rather surprisingly, the last to wake, having fallen asleep despite himself. Once he woke he found himself looking into three sets of wide eyes. Two accompanied by weary smiles and the third, Susan's, dulled by exhaustion. She had not slept as well as he'd hoped, it seemed.

"Peter," Lucy said with a wide smile. She seemed carefree though oddly withered. Almost as innocent as the day she left and Peter's instinct was to accept it as truth. How wrong that would prove to be.

"How long have you been up?" he asked, even as he straightened in his chair and rubbed his face. Once again willing a little blood to his skin. He walked over to the bed and placed a hand and a kiss on her head. She reached up and hugged him back. After a second, wide smile from her, he was released and repeated the procedure with Edmund. Producing a similar, if even duller result. All except Susan jumped when Titus peeked his head into the room.

"Yes?" she asked. The eldest sister was still under the covers, behind Edmund and Lucy, but alert still it seemed.

"Breakfast, Your Majesties?" he whispered. He looked to Peter when none of the others answered.

All Peter managed was a nod and the Faun vanished, once more closing the door. "How long did I sleep?" he asked, retaking his seat in the chair.

Susan was stroking Edmund's arm, seemingly without noticing, seated behind him on the bed. "For a few hours I'd guess. Why didn't you just come sleep on the bed with us?" she asked in the voice that was so familiar to her. A note of disbelief, parental exasperation and concern. Edmund smirked from beneath layers of duvets and blankets, curled up behind Lucy. Probably with his arms wrapped around her under the covers.

Peter smiled widely, about to answer, but perked when four maids entered the room, carrying large trays. They were balanced on bed trays that were placed carefully by the bottom of the large bed. Peter's on the night stand. Each lady smiled at the sovereigns in return before they left.

The meals were eaten without interruption, thought Peter kept glancing to the door, expected it. He and Susan nibbled at their own dishes, more tired than hungry. Sharply contrasted by Edmund and Lucy who ate theirs with a vigor seldom seen by any mortal creature. Each one crooning at their first sip of warm milk or bite of crisp toast. "Oh I've missed this," Lucy lamented in between bits of fluffy pastry.

"Mhnf," Edmund agreed, mid-bite of his own treat. Delicious things, native to Eion and not made as well anywhere else, or so they claimed.

Peter smiled and forgot his meal in favor of watching them both.

"Might want to pace yourselves," Susan cautioned, once again with a concerned expression.

He felt a sudden sting of irritation. Why did she always have to sour the moment? Spoil their fun, a petulant voice grumbled in his mind. But his annoyance at her was forgotten the second their siblings both rather abruptly paled and began swallowing convulsively. He jolted into action with a massive heave of energy, marveling at the sudden strength and panic running through him. " _Titus!_ "

Three Fauns and a Dryad crashed into the room with varying degrees of concern or downright terror. "Bucket, now!"

But it was too late.

Edmund keeled right across Susan's lap, knocking all trays in the process, to reach the far edge of the bed. He vomited with deep heaves that expanded his entire back. Whimpers at the end of each. A bucket was swung in front of Lucy just as she joined him out of sympathy.

Peter's joy vanished like it had never been there and was replaced with stark concern. Terror even. He held their sister as Susan held their brother. Each elder looked at the other across their siblings' backs in stinging regret. Peter rubbed Lucy's back in circles until the very last drop of milk had been expelled with an exhausted whine. Tears running down her reddened face. Susan shushed their youngest brother until he reached the same inevitable conclusion and leaned back. Shivering.

Each was once more tucked under the covers whilst Peter and Susan ran hands over brows and down flushed faces. Checking for anything. Heat. Chills. Shivers. _Anything_. All they found was a slight warmth and teary eyes as their two, youngest looked up at each of them with such vulnerability.

Peter felt afraid at the discovery. Edmund and Lucy were both looking at him with such trust. Searching for comfort. He stammered as the fear climbed back into panic, aching to lash out.

It was Susan who saved him.

"Shh, go back to sleep," she said softly. Each little, lamb looked to her as _she_ gazed down at them. Trust and confusion warring within their expressions as she ran her hands over their faces and brows. "Go to sleep," she said again.

Peter's racing heart slowed a bit, as did his breathing. His hands were trembling, but those too seemed to still little by little as he watched them. Not until Titus touched his arm did he realize that Nex, Rango, and Hydox were there as well. The three Fauns waiting in abject terror for whatever horrible scenario they each imagined. Hydox, the darkskinned Rowan, watching them in concern with her bow, no longer strung, but placed at the ready.

They had burst in expecting the worst. "It's alright," Peter whispered. He nodded when they all looked at him. He glanced at the door. "Do you think you can call someone to clean up the mess? Quietly."

Rango glanced at his master, Titus, before he nodded and left the room as quietly as possible. Peter watched him leave before he turned to Titus. "Do you know where Oreius is?"

The Faun swallowed and banished some of his fear. "He's with Celer. I believe they wanted to speak with King Baskar."

Peter nodded and exhaled a deep sigh through his nose, his last panic settling reluctantly. "Very well," His eyes cut to Susan. "Would you or should I?"

Her clear, blue eyes deepened as she looked him over, Edmund and Lucy's heads cupped protectively in both her hands. "I will," she said to his surprise and gently excavated herself from the bed.

Peter watched her in another moment of surprise before he moved Lucy's bucket and quietly dragged his chair closer.

"Who's watching the room?" Susan asked Titus on her way out the door.

"Myself, the three Cats and Connie," he whispered back.

"Very well," She stepped into the hallway. "Dahlia, follow me. The rest of you remain here."

The door _shicked_ closed in her wake, sealing in the silence, and Peter drew a relieved sigh. The chair squeaked as he leaned back and placed a hand on his brow. Both his siblings were falling back to sleep. He hoped they would sleep as deeply as before, though he doubted it would last long.

The silence lasted a moment before Titus once again peeked into the room. Peter jumped at the disruption. "A boy is here to clean, Your Majesty?" the Faun whispered.

He nodded and gestured to the far side of the bed. Titus allowed the page admittance with his own accompanying presence and a subtle touch on his sword. The boy took great care not to look directly at the sleeping children or Peter on his way around it and hurried to clean up the mess.

He stopped on his way out with a bow. "Sire?" he asked with his head down. Peter looked up. "Do you need anything else?"

"No. Thank you."

The boy nodded again and hurried out, leaving Titus. The Faun received a nod before he too took his leave. In the silence once more, Peter wondered how long before he could feel Narnian soil under his feet. It hinged solely on his siblings' progress and he was doubly unnerved by the knowledge that each of them would lie their very best to get home the second they were able. Putting their own health at risk.

His expression folded into worry as the minutes ticked nearly into a full hour.

Then with a rapid shifting, Lucy came to and whirled around in the bed. Checking on Edmund. Searching for Susan. Her frightened expression had Peter pushing out of the chair to grab her arm which was the exact worst thing to do.

"No!" she screamed in painful terror that struck him so dumb he instantly released her and took a step back. She whirled around and looked up at him with heaving breaths and burgeoning tears. Edmund jerked in his sleep.

"Lucy," Peter breathed and inched closer she recognition flashed across her face. "Lucy, it's alright," he said, half pleading with her even as Edmund awoke without a sound.

"Peter," she chirped and reached out. Gripping him when he offered a hand and then sank down onto the bed.

"I'm right here, Lu. Right here," he said in a shaky voice when her shivers transformed to a strangled sob. Her little fingers grabbed onto the folds of his clothing and pulled him closer. Her sob turned a high pitched whimper as she buried her face against his chest. It was then Peter realized he was panting.

Edmund had opened his eyes and was staring at them with a stricken expression. He made as though to speak when the door suddenly swung open once more, Titus reacting to the noise - _once more_. On his heels were Coastar, Lir and Connie. The Hyena was panting and darting her eyes about the room, sniffing out enemies before she turned to the royals. The Cats were less inclined for displays of emotion, but even Peter could tell they were agitated. Reacting to their queen's distress.

"Sire?" Titus asked at length. His hand hadn't left his undrawn sword and he looked tense, as though about to snap.

"It's alright," Peter said without turning away from Lucy. "Wait outside, please."

With murmured agreements the four Narnians acquiesced, closing the door behind them. Peter floundered a moment before Edmund suddenly reached over and petted their sister's back a little clumsily. She whined low in her throat at the touch and pressed harder into Peter's chest. Peter looked at his brother, wordlessly seeking support which the dark haired gave without pause. He scooted in behind Lucy, wrapping his arms around her and Peter both.

Something released then in the youngest and her fearful whimpers turned to long, drawn out sobs that shook the three of was wrapped around them both like he was afraid they would disappear and Lucy still seemed lost in her nightmare. Peter just felt lost.

So they sat, Peter regretting the silence that had been lost.

* * *

Susan was joined in a meeting room of sorts by Queen Hira, her only remaining son, and her oldest daughter-in-law. A servant of sorts, was seated with them at the table, which led Susan to believe he was more of a counselor or advisor. An air of awkwardness and sorrow still hovered over their heads like a thick blanket. Determined to strangle any sense of comfort they might've found in each other's presence.

Susan glanced over at Oreius, Ayel, Helios, and Celer who were watching the gathering silently and with interest. The high duke of Galma had changed into his signet colors, blue and gold. Each one rivalling his golden hair and blue eyes. Oreius and Celer had donned their Narnian parade armor of electrum, covered in golden wreaths, and in Oreius' case three golden bars across his left pauldron, and Lion idols and red velvet. Helios still wore Narnian dark green and had donned a breastplate embossed with the golden head of a lion.

Susan turned back from her brief glance. She made a conscious effort not to swallow down her nervousness, preferring to tackle any barriers between her and the royal house with grace and poise. Oreius was watching her intently, standing parade against the wall, breathing deep breahts in and out. He had enough patience to rival Aslan, she thought. Had to in order to get any use out of her brothers, no doubt. The thought almost banished the sorrow she felt, lingering in the room though she quickly snapped back to present.

The queen was in mourning colors of blue, almost black. Her advisor and daughter-in-law as well. Hilio was the only Terebinthian not and he sat arrow straight with eyes pointed down and hands clasped in his lap. Attempting with every fiber of his being to emulate Susan's general and almost successful. The notion, when she had it, surprised her: He would make a valuable ally without doubt.

"It grieves me that I wasn't able to bring you good news, Lady Llithus," she then said, figuring it was up to her to commence. Lady Llithus glanced up and offered a composed nod before she lowered her eyes again, as though unable to keep them up for any span of time.

The only order of business as far as Susan was concerned was to sign the negotiations her siblings never fully officiated, _before_ \- An official agreement sat in front of her along with a perfect copy for Narnian records, inkwell and feathers resting beside them. An agreement of collaboration, signifying a lasting alliance between Terebinthia and Narnia. It had been revised, she knew. She had been presented with the records of alterations, the prior accord, and the amended one, to become effective upon its signing.

It specified an equal partnership between the two nations, particularly with regards to sovereign rule. It was partly per her brother's request, she knew. She didn't have to see the evidence to recognize his words on paper. He had _wanted_ Terebinthia autonomous, but she wondered if that was still the case. Wondered if Peter and Lucy agreed with him or if she even did herself.

"We are here to sign our two nations into alliance with one another," She said on a tempered exhale. "A collaboration of this nature is unprecedented and will signify a close friendship for many years to come," It was the first of many legal agreements that would pass between them. "It signifies _hope_ ," she said, pointedly drawing the attention of the grieving Terebinthians, "and is the first of its kind. A _first_ for an accord of this nature," she said in a measured voice. "And the first of its kind for the Royal Seat of Eion," She looked into the eyes of the people around the table with her. "It was brought forth by request of Prince Hilio of Eion and effectuated by the keepers of records for the Public Annals."

The counselor, _Hellon_ was his name, gave her a brief nod as she nodded to him. He wasn't a statesman, but something just as valuable. A sympathetic ear to Hira perhaps?

She grabbed the quill and dipped it in the well. Smoothing away any excess ink. "As per verbal agreement between Terebinthia and Narnia, I, Queen Susan the Gentle of the Four Narnian Thrones, Ruler by decree of Aslan, hereby declare the proposed bill lawful and superseding of all prior agreements between our nations."

The quill scratched across the parchment and she quickly repeated the procedure on the copy. A page stepped forward and poured fine sand on the signatures before removing them with a cautious flick of the paper. Dusting it on the floor without a second thought. He placed the agreement in front of the Lady Llithus for the final signature.

"All witness, note that the future Queen Regent of Terebinthia signs on behalf of her Royal daughter, Crown Princess Liliana," Hellon announced with his head bowed, respectfully, as the page retreated. Llithus signed without pause or hesitation, steeling herself it seemed, and put down the quill when the page repeated his previous procedure.

"This agreement signifies the end of the reign of King Baskar the Fifth and proclaims the sovereign reign of first born daughter to Bastian the Sixteenth," Susan declared to all who were present, looking around the room where she received nods from Celer and Oreius. They were all witnesses.

Hira drew a relieved sigh to Susan's surprise. Hilio as well, seemed to sink in on himself in his seat as the agreements were handed to Hellon and rolled into boarded leather tubes. One for Narnia's records and one for Terebinthia's. When Susan met Lady Llithus' eyes she looked anything but fit. In fact she looked almost fragile and far from the ruler Terebinthia would need. She hoped her daughter would prove a better fit or that the lady would rise to the occasion. As she sat there she looked deeply wounded by the loss of her husband and his brothers, a wound that might never heal. Susan couldn't begin to understand the depth of her sorrow and felt ill at the thought that she might've exacerbated the situation by destroying Blue Mine.

Following a more thorough report from lieutenant-general of the Terebinthian court she understood a bit more of the circumstances surrounding their deaths. One of the men who had survived, Gedeminas, had given a detailed report of the events in that strange nether-place where they had been trapped. She understood that her own actions has brought no more damage to human life, but still preferred not to think of it.

Preferred not to consider what would have happened if no other connection to that place had been discovered. How out of control her siblings' situation had been and how easily their bright lights could have been squelched by forces beyond anyone's understanding or control.

"Let us all bear witness to this blessed, new reign," she said, snapping back to the room.

Every person there, save herself, rose and offered a salute to the young woman. "All hale the Queen Regent," was voiced in chorus, if solemnly. From Susan as well.

An empty seat remained at the table where Baskar should have been present. The now former king had fortified himself in his rooms and refused the admittance of even his wife since the return of the Narnian sovereigns. Susan wasn't sure of his mental state and wasn't keen to postulate on it. All she knew was that Hilio had proclaimed his father unfit for rule upon their return. That he, before anyone could accuse him of high treason, had proclaimed an amendment to the legislation Edmund and Lucy had been there to sign.

Liliana, daughter of Bastian the Sixteenth would rule once she came of age. Her mother would rule by proxy until such time. It was the first time in Terebinthian history that a woman had inherited the throne. Though not the first time a king had been deposed. She had no idea how this change would reflect on the inhabitants of Eion, or the outlying regions, but felt sure the young Queen would have many bridges to mend on her predecessor's behalf and didn't envy her the task. She and her siblings were in their third year of rule and were still struggling to reconnect with some dukedoms and sovereign states.

Galma was one success out of many failures, Calormen an apt example of one such failure. One she knew would soon have to be dealt with.

But not today.

She rose with the others when a crown was brought forth by an officiator and placed on Llithus' head. The lady curtsied and straightened, hands clasped in front of herself.

"All hail the Queen," Hira suddenly intoned, startling those present by the volume of her voice.

Susan watched each woman and Hilio next. The prince seemed at ease considering his loss, and pleased, though his sister-in-law had yet to even glance in his direction. Susan knew the new queen harbored doubts about her position. Knew it was a task she had never been trained for, but neither had the Pevensies. She often reflected on the madness of events that had brought her and her siblings all they had. Well, she used to reflect. With every passing night it became harder and harder to recall any details of her former existence with any kind of clarity.

That too, was something she did not like to think about. Preferring to keep her mind on the present.

She smiled and curtsied when Queen Regent Llithus exited the room, followed by her honor guard in silent procession. She turned to watch the prince and followed him out of the room, herself followed by Oreius and Celer. "Prince Hilio," she called as the gathered dissipated. Consort Queen Hira shot her son and Susan a glance in the distance before she too left. Susan didn't see her as she grabbed Hilio's arm and joined him down the hall. "I wanted to congratulate you for your courage."

He looked surprised, but didn't speak.

"It's not all who would so selflessly abdicate their claim to a throne," she said in explanation. "I'd like to think I was able were I ever in your shoes," They turned down a branch of the castle that led to the prayer garden. A gallery opened up into the garden, lovingly framed every other step by a hollyhock covered pillar and wide open glass doors. They exited into the sunlight, Hilio's hand finding her own as it sat on his arm.

"She blames me," he said in a solemn voice, head bowed.

"She won't for long," Susan said with a kind smile. "She'll come to understand the value that's been placed on her and she'll ask you for help."

He looked up at her. "Do you think so?"

"Most definitely," Her smile brightened a little, but failed to infect him.

His faithful expression melted away once again into something somber. "She's not the only one, Queen Susan."

Susan nodded and cast her own eyes down. "Baskar."

Hilio's jaw worked and when he next spoke he sounded as though on the verge of tears. "He must hate me."

"Oh Hilio," she sighed and drew him to a stop. "He does _not_ hate you."

He glanced away with angry tears in his eyes. "Why not? My mother does."

"No she doesn't," she said with absolute certainty.

Hilio wiped an angry tear that rolled down his face, still refusing to look her in the eye.

She watched him a moment before she pulled carefully on his arm.

"Where-"

"Come with me," she said gently and led him towards the grand statue. Aslan's idol peeked out among pale roses and summer flowers. A Monarch butterfly hovered in the air around it. The Lion statue's gaze pointed north as it had always done. It's mane, stiffened in petrified marble. Susan stopped them both before Him, but didn't kneel. "Do you _believe_ in Aslan?" she asked in a soft, curious voice.

Neither looked at the other, instead staring at the solemn Lion. "I do," he answered.

She nodded, having expected no less. "Have you ever seen Him?" Then she looked to him. Awaiting his response.

"Once," he said softly. "In a dream," He glanced her way and huffed when their eyes met. "That sounds ridiculous to hear it aloud."

"Not at all," she said as a calmness overcame her. "My sister sees Him all the time in her dreams. Swears He whispers to her about the future."

Hilio looked at her with wide eyes. "Does He really?" he whispered.

Susan allowed a smile to blossom as she gazed up at the Lion. Her own doubts momentarily assuaged. "I think so," she said. "I think He visits everyone who needs Him in whatever form they need."

Hilio was staring at her, transfixed. "How does He appear to _you_?"

Her smile softened. "Just as He is," She glanced over and laughed self-consciously. "He doesn't tell me the future though. He saves that for valiant little sisters."

Hilio breathed out a laugh with tears stubbornly clinging to his eyes. He was younger than her, but by very little and yet as she looked into his eyes she saw her brothers in some way or form. A lost boy, was what she saw. She removed her hand from his arm and took one of his hands in both of hers. "Listen to me, Hilio," He looked at her, eyes open wide. "I can never return what you've lost," A look of insurmountable sorrow flashed across his face. "But I swear to you that I will never abandon you or your niece. Every weapon at my disposal, my _help,_ is yours should you ever need it."

As his eyes filled to the brim with tears he nodded and looked away. A few drops dislodged and it was as though opening the floodgates. He leaned into her ready embrace and wrapped his arms around her, clinging as wretched sobs quaked through his body.

Susan's heart broke for the young man and she wished there was more she could've done. In the midst of his grief she glanced to the solemn, silent statue and her determination melted away. Taking her compassion with it.

Leaving behind nothing but a dull hollow.

* * *

TBC


	22. Beyond the Storm

_A/N: Thank you so much to all you guys who are still waiting for each update and leaving little nuggets of love and kitten-fur after reading :* I love you!_

* * *

Chapter 22: Beyond the Storm

In the days that followed Peter could not shake his sense of panic. Never was it farther away than the bang of a slamming door or the clash of a dropped piece of cutlery. In his anxiety Susan seemed to veer in the opposite direction, holding to her Gentle moniker. Edmund and Lucy both veered in between extremes, rapidly alternating between offensive and defensive behaviors. Reacting to memories that Peter and Susan had no understanding of and shrieking from nightmares neither wished to talk about.

It took four days for both of them to rise from bed and walk around unsupported. Four days with Susan and a team of Terebinthian healers watching their every move until the tension melted. And all of them being watched by Peter. Apparently whatever threat they had been watching for had abated.

Peter suspected the cause of their unease when he watched the last in long line of expert physicians depart from the royal guest chambers after a thorough examination of Ed and Lucy both. He was rubbing his face as he watched Edmund tuck his shirt down his pants. Susan was braiding Lucy's hair as the two girls spoke with Binya. The usually brusque Dwarf had been in to visit once prior and had both times been mild-mannered and almost gentle with the youngest queen.

Edmund looked up at his brother and sent him an inquisitive look. Peter shook his head and turned to their sisters. Both giggled at something Binya's Second in command said as she had momentarily been tasked with helping Susan hold the ribbons that would tie Lucy's braid.

Edmund came over and sat down. "What the matter?" he whispered.

So large was the chamber that the girls easily entertained the captain and first mate of the Ouranios without turning to watch the brothers. Peter realized this and turned, studying his younger brother a moment. "How are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice.

Edmund's expression shifted effortlessly to one of exasperation. "Well enough to travel."

Peter nodded. "Are you _sure_?"

" _Peter_ -"

"What are you two talking about?" Susan asked in a low voice as she came over and carted a hand through Edmund's hair.

The usually reluctant boy leaned in to the touch, much to Peter's surprise, and closed his eyes for the barest of moments. "When are we sailing?" he asked Susan and rubbed an itch on his nose.

"The harbormaster says the tide will withdraw this evening around seventh bell. We should be aboard by then and ready to depart."

"Sounds good," Pete pushed out of his chair with a deep breath. "I should go find the Queen Regent and excuse our rushed departure."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Susan asked. Edmund was looking up at her as though hanging on her every word without appearing to do so. Her hand still resting on his crown.

"No," Peter sent them both a quick smile. "You stay. I'll make sure she remembers what you told her," He sent Lucy a quick smile on his way out. Susan smiled very slightly, the first in days, at the mention of the promise she had given Hilio.

As he exited the room Peter heard her softy uttered threat of a sound hair-combing and Edmund's vehement reply. He snorted as the door closed behind him and Costar easily fell into step down the hall. "Where's my General, Cousin?"

"With Ayel and Helios, Your Majesty. Celer is watching the proceedings."

"Very good. Take me to them."

They entered the throne room to a scattered crowd. "His Majesty, High King Peter the Magnificent," an announcer called, drawing attention from every corner.

Dukedoms had been alerted to the change in succession and many emissaries had begun arriving to Eion. Many old men, and many ill at ease about a woman ascending to power, but Peter was determined to assuage their unease any way he could.

He strode up to the throne where Llithus was seated amongst weathered advisors, all men - all old. Celer joined him as a shadow from where he had been conversing with ladies Omi and Hira and as Peter approached the reigning Queen his breath rushed out of his chest in pleasant realization. The Queen Regent was dressed far more resplendently than she had previously been, clothed in a long gown of dark green velvet. A _Narnian_ color of mourning. Golden thread of white-gold added details of flickering light to the gown and her fair hair. Styling her form as that of a far more ethereal being, sharply contrasted by the heavy, dark gown.

He bowed deeply when he reached the dais and straightened to look her in the eye. "Queen Regent."

"High King," she answered in a booming voice. Her tone had the sound of a clear bell and Peter felt in that instant a surge of hope. She commanded attention merely by being and it was clear to see from every advisor – every _man_ – around her that she would have no trouble controlling them. Her daughter hopefully even less so. "I hear you're leaving us."

Peter offered a little dip of his head. "Indeed we are. I apologize for the late notice."

"Worry not," she said in that same, deep voice. Her countenance was without a doubt one of grief, but also steel. "You've served us well with your visit."

Peter offered a second nod, wondering if she truly believed that or if it was rather manners that smoothed her tongue. "We've taken the liberty of acquiring the aide of your groomsmen to traffic our belongings safely to the harbor."

She nodded. "When do you depart?"

"In two hours' time."

She nodded again and Peter prepared to ask what he'd come for. "Would you allow me a private audience?"

She watched him a beat before she accepted and descended the throne. A gaggle of guards escorted them to a private sitting room, closely joined by Celer and Hydox. The Rowan Dryad rattled wherever she walked, as though touched by a breeze none but she could feel. Always armed with a serene expression, only showing her emotions through deep-seated, black eyes. The door was opened and Peter stepped aside with an arm out for Llithus to precede him.

She did so with a curtsey.

Once inside a guard closed the door, leaving them in private. He stepped closer and bowed again, this time placing a hand on his sword and summoning the promise he had been tasked to give. "Your Majesty, we realize the strain of a new rule," He watched her face closely and was a little unnerved to see not a flicker of emotion. "Intimately," Sympathy flickered, but was countered by yet more quiet observance. "But rest _assured_ that Narnia is greatly relieved by this most recent change."

She nodded her thanks, still not flinching a muscle.

"And know that – should you ever have need of it – our weapons, our _knowledge_ is at your disposal."

He was expecting the lightning quick flash of surprise and softened his countenance at bit. Inviting her questions. He saw in her a version of himself in some ways. Organic reactions and overpowering love, loss, hate - _all_ forced into place by immeasurable control and an internal need for governance. Pressure, hope, fear, gratitude rolled into one as she was quickly settling herself into a new role. "I hear you are the daughter of a local merchant?" he asked when she made no move to speak.

Surprise flashed again as she nodded.

"Does your family live nearby?"

"Yes. Here in Eion," She watched him through wide eyes. It was trust, he suddenly realized.

He smiled. "Wonderful. I shall endeavor to visit them on my next visit. I trust you won't fault me the transgression this time around?"

Her surprise flickered by a quick smile. She was older than him by little over ten years, but the lines on her face were harshly outdone by that almost innocent expression. "Not at all, High King," she said with a little curtsey, sunlight catching the gold thread in her hair.

"Thank you, Queen Regent," he offered with a bow. "You do me a great service."

She flashed another of those smiles and Peter felt something within himself settle. Some unease he'd had about Terebinthia and its future. "Please know that our hospitality and friendship will perpetually extend to your daughters as well. We intend to become very close friends of theirs."

Her smile became a grin which was quickly tampered down. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Thank _you_. May I?" He angled towards the door with a hand outreached.

"Please," She accepted his arm and followed him back to the throne room where the crowds had quieted. All stared as they entered arm in arm. Peter escorted her to the throne where she took her seat with a kind smile for his assistance. "Your presence shall be missed, High King Peter."

He bowed with a hand on his heart. "And we shall look forward to a visit."

Her smile was one only women could truly wield, of someone with a shared secret, as she bid him farewell.

He withdrew with Celer's company, heading for the stables. "Will you pass a message to Susan?"

"Certainly, Sire."

Costar joined them without a sound, to the great consternation of some of the inhabitants of the castle who shrieked as the giant Tiger loped along side them. "Tell her I'll be waiting for them onboard _Ouranios_. I have to see his lordship, Ayel Maeon-Tal before departure."

"Will do, Sire," he said and veered off down an adjoining hall. Costar stayed affixed to Peter, but skirted ahead once they entered the courtyard, running with long strides to the groomsmen. Frightening a pack of hunting dogs senseless, but was quick in passing. "The High King needs a horse and an escort to Eion," the Great Cat called, stunning the men at work with his sudden shout.

Peter half felt sorry for them - a large Tiger was a shock to anyone, let alone one who spoke, not to mention one who did so in such commanding terms – but in that moment he was happy to have him at his side.

* * *

Susan turned back to her siblings when Celer left them after delivering his message. Peter was off and soon they would be too, but Susan had one last order of business to attend to. "Will you be alright for a little while?"

Both her siblings nodded, silent as was the norm more often than not these days. It stirred a foreboding sense of unease inside her. A sense she couldn't counter or rationalize away, one whose origin was still undiscovered and one that left her face permanently cinched in a little frown.

She left with Dahlia on her heels to find Hilio. She wanted clarification on his relations with the newly minted queen regent. She wanted the overt glances and shameful silences banished, or as remedied as possible before their departure. Susan had no illusions that she would ever return to Terebinthia. She had neither the inclination to, nor did she perceive a need for her presence in any further dealings.

The island had seeped into her skin and made it dull and cold. Left an itch she had never had before, one she most certainly did not like. There was no light for her here. No _warmth_ save for what her family gave her. She blamed no one for it, but knew she would never return could she avoid it. Knew she would rather _none_ of them return.

"Queen Susan," Hilio shot out of his seat when she burst in with a slight haste. Dahlia veered left upon entry to the officers' barracks and slunk along the walls. The prince was seated in front of a strawberry blonde soldier. Next to them, hovering by the soldier's shoulder, was his commanding officer.

"How may we be of assistance, My Queen?" The lieutenant bowed as the others stood and did the same.

"Include me in this conversation and I shall consider it a start," she said, looking intently at Hilio. The young prince shifted with half a glance at the officer, but then nodded.

"Of course. Please sit," He vacated his chair in deference to her and summed up their prior conversation. "This is Gedeminas, Your Majesty."

The soldier in question was watching her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She nodded and sent him as much of a smile as she could manage. "Soldier."

"Your Majesty," he whispered.

"He was with your royal siblings. One of two who survived," the lieutenant explained.

"He made a rather-" Hilio stopped himself with a look at her. "He wishes to join the Narnian navy, Your Majesty."

Gedeminas rose from his seat, hand on his heart. "I feel my presence may be best used in Your company, Your Majesty."

She watched him in utter surprise. "Narnia has no navy," she muttered. His expression flickered and he made to speak, but was interrupted before he could. "You helped them escape?" she asked as she looked him very quickly up and down. He was pale and slender. Thinner than usual if the pallor of his skin was any guide.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"You and another?" She glanced at Hilio who nodded.

"I wish to offer my services as a soldier," he said on an exhale. Reaching for courage.

"We have no use for you, I'm afraid."

He looked crestfallen before his face became animated once more. "Then in any way that I can. Any service You may desire, it will be my honor to perform."

As she watched him she felt more and more sad. "What have you told him so far?" she asked Hilio without turnin.

"We've explained to the young gentleman that no such opportunity exists," the lieutenant answered for his prince. "There is no precedence for it, nor does his absence here serve his royal house any."

Susan frowned slightly as she looked at the young man. "How old are you?"

"Twenty four, Your Majesty," He was beginning to deflate and wavered as though about to sink to his knees.

He was afraid to ask again and she felt no compunction to endulge him, thankful that a somehow hopeless outcome could be dodged. Though she knew not _what_ exactly made it hopeless his presence in Narnia would only serve as a reminder. Reminders she had no need of. Yet. "How was it?" she asked suddenly, memories drifting to collapsing caves and rivers of violent dirt and surprising herself with the break in concentration.

His hopeful expression flickered in a moment's misunderstanding.

" _That_ place."

His countenance fell and with it did the hand on his heart. His entire body stilled and stopped. He sat with a thump. "I would not know where to begin," he admitted in a frail voice.

She watched him. "Did you see land and water?"

A momentary flicker of disgust curled his lip, but his voice when he answered was soft. "No water."

"So inland?"

"Yes," he whispered.

She watched reality withdraw from his eyes and knew the dangers that lurked in memories best forgotten. Had a keen understanding of such experiences already, but knew she would never have the heart to ask her siblings for an explanation. "What else?" He went there before her very eyes and took her with him.

"It was dry, Your Majesty," He cleared his throat and no longer looking her in the eye. Instead staring blankly at something only _he_ saw as his hands twitched uselessly in his lap.

"Dry," she asked.

"Not a drop of water anywhere," he admitted. His voice sounded hoarse just from remembering it.

"Queen Susan-" Hilio whispered, but her raised hand silenced him.

She paused as a peculiar thought struck her. "How long were you there?"

"Two days and two nights," He cleared his throat and looked up, snapping back to present with an alarming change of character.

Her own surprise gave way to the lieutenant's. "Are you certain, Soldier?"

"Yes, but-" He swallowed. "But they were longer," He looked at Susan. "Longer than normal days and nights."

"How _much_ longer?"

He started to shake his head, but stopped. "I would say… three days and nights each."

"Three?" she whispered and did the calculations in her mind. "You are sure they were not longer?"

His wide and trusting eyes held hers as he nodded.

It was too short. Not long enough for the time elapsed since they were reported lost and then found. She leaned back and swallowed a little, not sure if the knowledge comforted her or frightened her. They had experienced a shorter amount of time away than the amount of time they had actually been gone. Her eyes snapped to his again. "Is there anything I should know?" She hardly refrained from asking, but her impulse was to enquire.

Gedeminas' eyes overflowed and two tears slipped down his cheeks. He breathed shakily through his nose. "I d-don't know what they've told you?"

Something inside her hardened and darkened at the instant utterance of those words. She sat straight in her seat and froze. Stared at him in complete concentration and felt Dahlia do the same behind her. "Nothing. They've said nothing."

He nodded and glanced away before he continued. "There was s-something there," he whispered with another fallen tear.

"The vines?"

He nodded as more tears followed the first, deflating into his seat a little. "They inf-infected so many," he said with a sob and folded his hands in his lap. Cradling them as he bent over them only to straighten instantly. "We didn't expect this," he vowed with freefalling tears as he looked at Susan.

"I know," she promised. Her voice was supportive, but she knew her expression was nothing of the sort.

"Th...They c-came with the dark," he whimpered. His face red and veins popping on his neck as he restrained himself from outright sobbing. Constantly battling between composure and utter terror, it seemed.

" _Who_ did?" the lieutenant asked, sensing he was referring to something other than the plants.

He sniffed as snot joined his tears and hastily wiped his face before turned back to Susan. "We named them _fiends_."

"What?" Hilio uttered.

Susan remained frozen and watched the assumed control of only moments before deconstruct. She suspected Edmund and Lucy had it inside them as well. "They were _so_ fast," he whimpered.

Every breath looked difficult to draw.

"They k-killed so many," He looked away as another sob tore through him. His embarrassment over the situation, obvious. But then he sniffed and resettled somewhat, forcing his emotions back. "And...And we couldn't fight them," he admitted.

She watched him and dared draw a deep breath, nervous flutter within her chest. "Did my siblings see them?"

He nodded, settling his expression even as a tear dripped from his eye.

"Did something _hurt_ them?" she asked. Her heart was pounding and a furious uproar of anger and fear were vying for control.

Tears fell down his cheeks as he offered a wordless nod.

Then, in the space of a blink, dead space siphoned away those havoc-wreaking emotions as it seeped into every ounce of her. Cold, dead darkness supplaced everything else. "But you saved them," she stated. Something _settled_. "You and the man they call Typhos?" It was not relief; that would have been too kind, nor was it precisely forgiveness. Rather something akin to vindication.

"Typhos saved all of us several times over," he confessed wiping the last tears from his face and drawing a deep breath.

She nodded and rose, prompting the soldier to follow. Hilio and the lieutenant straightened as she rose level with them. "Thank you," she said, capturing Gedeminas' eyes. She accepted the sense of detachment with a private nod. "I hear you'll receive a command of your own?"

He nodded with only the barest delay.

"I'm sure they'll be in capable hands," She turned to leave, but was stopped at his shy voice.

"Queen Susan?"

She looked back.

"My request?"

He looked hopeful once more. Fraying edges soothed by it once more. "I'm afraid it's beyond my control, Captain."

His hopeful expression fell.

"But..." He looked at her. "When next your Queen travels to Narnia," He nodded, eagerly waiting. "Make sure you join her," She held his gaze, willing him to understand and with a brief widening of his eyes he did.

"I shall."

She nodded and smiled. Small, but genuine. "Prince Hilio?"

"Majesty?"

"Where might I find the Queen Regent?"

The prince smiled as well before he answered. Small, but genuine as well.

* * *

Susan strode with Dahlia who was leaping every other step to keep up with her queen's long strides. The Panther didn't speak a word. Both ran across a page and Susan halted him with a raised hand. "The Queen Regent. Is she in her private quarters?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

And indeed she was, entertaining her mother-in-law and her oldest daughter. The future ruling queen of Terebinthia was the same age as Lucy. Eleven years old. As she sat in the softly lit room with her mother and grandmother Susan saw nothing but a young girl. "Your Majesties," she greeted. For now all decisions would go through the regent. Later, power would defer to the girl.

All three rose and a guard closed the door behind her as she entered fully. "How may I help you, Queen Susan?" Llithus asked.

Susan noticed she was in dark green attire and felt the vindication from before bubble pleasurably in the pit of her stomach. "May I join you a moment?" She gestured to an empty seat.

"Please," Llithus offered.

They all sat in tandem, Susan watching young Liliana as she stared at the table. She was dressed in dark blue like her grandmother, wearing a bonnet in the same color. "My condolences for your loss. I hear the memorials will be held in the coming weeks?"

"Yes," Llithus agreed with a swallow.

"I regret we can't be here to support you."

"It's perfectly understandable," she said with a slim smile. "How may we help you?" she asked again.

Susan drew a deep breath. "I have a question for you."

They looked at her, waiting.

"The miner who survived along with Gedeminas and my siblings."

"Typhos Eastoft. He's with his family in the lower city."

She nodded. "Is he educated?" It had taken her a while to adjust to the notion of _not_ being so, considering her experiences in England. But England was a half faded memory.

Llithus deferred to Hira. "I believe he understands the basics of durability, utility and beauty as his father before him," she said.

"An architect?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Does he understand the basics of construction?"

"Perhaps," Hira said with a tilt of her head. "I'm afraid that is beyond my knowledge of him."

Susan nodded, not dissuaded from her own personal plotting and only bolstered after seeing the expression on Gedeminas' face. "There is a long standing tradition of ambassadors between allied countries," She looked up at the two eldest, watching to see if they caught her meaning.

"I believe you are correct, My Queen," Hira said. Her voice dropping in burgeoning understanding.

"I should very much enjoy a visit from one such individual in the future."

"An ambassador of Terebinthia," Queen Llithus asked, glancing at her mother-in-law.

"Especially one with an understanding of structural engineering. I understand Typhos is such a person."

Then Llithus smiled. "You'd be correct, Your Majesty."

Susan nodded and rose. She would fill the halls of Cair Paravel with the faces of unlikely friends. "Then I would suggest the possibility of a trade," In time.

"You wish to post a Narnian ambassador in Eion."

"Yes."

Llithus looked down in thought before she glanced at her daughter. The girl looked like she was spun from fine china. So still and quiet. "What do you think, Darling?" the queen regent asked.

The girl looked up at her mother, first. Susan next. With a tiny nod she loosened a smile, not speaking a word. "I believe that's a 'yes'," Llithus said, drawing a deep breath and smiling more forcefully. Seeming relieved.

"It would certainly strengthen what is already present," Hira joined, her expression remaining blank.

All three stared at Susan, who continued to watch young Liliana. The girl smiled fully and prompted one from Susan as well. "Very well, Your Majesty. It is decided."

She offered one last curtsey before she left the room. Never once looking back.

* * *

TBC

 _A/N: The three concepts Hira mentions (durability, utility and beauty) are the three primary pillars of architecture as identified by Vitruvius in Ancient Rome. The "basics of construction" that Susan mentions allude to the_ _ **Quadrivium**_ _, not mentioned by name in this story because while I think there would definitely be similarities between earth and Narnia that particular co-in-ki-dink might be a bit of a stretch :D_

 _Let me know what you think. :*_


	23. Glasswater

_A/N: Sorry for the wait *she says despondently, trying to remember when that became her most used phrase*. I love all of you guys so much for sticking with this, for putting it on your alert lists, for putting up with my ridiculous delays, and for being SO patient and keen all the way through this. For that I wanted to ensure that your wait wasn't in vain and reallyreally hope you won't be disappointed. So, with that opening (closing?) statement, I give you: the Grieving Process._

 _There is ONE chapter left after this and then the epilogue (which is a teaser for the last part of the Guardians 'verse)._ _Both chapters are done and I'm uploading them in one go so you won't have to wait needlessly._

 _A/N2: I've picked up clues from some of your reviews (which I love- have I mentioned I love you?), but let me know if there's anything you feel I forgot or something you wanted to see, but didn't. I'll make it a point for it to make an appearance in the story that follows (the last piece of the Guardians …saga?-can I call it a "saga"?)._

 _A/N3!: MISTAKE! I'm somewhat prone to making blaringly big mistakes, like **celestially** big - No the sun does NOT set in the east, I know I made the mistake in Other World, but never corrected it because...well, I kinda started to like it. But this was pointed out by a reviewer (Good lookin' out, you know who you are) and I wanted to fix it. Thanks for the head's up ;)  
_

* * *

Chapter 23: Glasswater

With a sigh of wind from the island at their backs, six Galmian ships set off to sea that glittering evening. They were joined by the fleet's flagship, _Dæios_ and the Narnian exploration vessel, _Ouranios_. Together the eight ships made for an impressive bird's eye view as they sailed north-west with the sunset setting the half the sky on fire. Seagulls followed them for the first many miles, diving into the swell from the ships as they dove for fish.

Lucy had her eyes set on the distant north where she could almost imagine Cair Paravel, setting sun sparkling in competition with the first stars.

Seven Albatrosses had flown to alert their home that they were returning and she couldn't get there fast enough. The Eagles and Gryphons soared high above their heads, making loops as they kept pace with the _Ouranios_. Guarding the horizon.

It was a sight she would never tire of. It would never wax or wane in her memory, nor would her childlike wonder of it. That thought left her with instant sadness. Edmund was in the officer's quarters with Susan and Peter. Most likely sleeping, as Lucy should be.

It was odd, she pondered, that she was not the one who had been injured and yet she reacted very similarly to Edmund. Near constant exhaustion, an inability to concentrate on the simplest of tasks, and a near constant fear coursing through her body. She had lost weight – they both had – and the forced recuperation upon their return had leeched any trace of sun-kissed bronze from their skin. Leaving them pale and thin. How much she resembled Edmund in that respect she had no idea, preferring not to dwell too long on Susan's mournful looks as they were cast her way.

She tended towards escape, she now realized. Wishing at once to be back home with a fierce longing and in the same breath acknowledging that it would not be long before the urge to travel announced itself again. Leaving her torn in two, her family in one half and the sea in the other. _Aslan's sea_.

She stiffened as a body approached her without a word. Only alerting its presence by the heavy, hooved footfalls. She knew it was Peter's general before she glanced at him. "Hullo, Oreius," She smiled though she wouldn't vouch for its authenticity.

"Hullo, Queen Lucy," he greeted in a deep voice. He rose easily three feet above her head. "Admiring the sunset?"

She hummed an affirmative. A shiver of tension raced up her spine though she hadn't the faintest idea why. She was _safe_. The ship was _safe_. There should be no reason for the constant sense of urgency she experienced. Perhaps it was a contrary reaction to Edmund's apparent ease.

Hardly anything ever upset him anymore, including the discord between these violent few weeks and an abrupt return home.

"I shall never tire of the sight of the ocean," he hummed and placed his massive hands on the railing. "Though I confess a rather urgent longing for the grasslands of our home," His familiar tone settled some of the anxiety roiling around inside her. He was _safe_. _She_ was _safe_.

But in its vacuum the sadness swelled again and tears sprang to her eyes, threatening to overflow. She breathed wetly and frowned when the action caused one treacherous tear to fall. She sniffed with her face angled down and never saw Oreius' expression soften. She sobbed softly when one of those massive hands was laid gently on her back. She leaned back into its warmth.

"I understand something has happened to you, My Queen," he said very quietly. "I see your struggle."

The comforting words stabbed her to the quick and made another, little sob rip away from her.

"But I pray you'll relinquish them in time."

Another sob escaped her and she leaned into his side, forgetting all manners. Sniffing and wiping her eyes in the calm sunset as his giant hand rubbed her shoulder.

"My _Dear_ Queen."

She hid her face in his flank as the last rays of sunlight fell to darkness.

The days were so short here, she thought.

* * *

Hilio entered his father's quarters with a pounding heart. He reached out for the knob only to have the door opened by one of Baskar's two, stationary guards. He entered and experienced a physical reaction, not unlike when he was about to be reprimanded.

Baskar was seated, half facing away. Looking out a latched window at the radiant sunlight. Dust danced in the air from the briefly opened door. Trays of food had been left uneaten. The former king's countenance was unkempt, to say the least and a sour smell mixed with that of spoilt food, and added to the oppressing atmosphere.

"You've had me usurped," Baskar growled from his seat. He was holding his sword.

Hilio swallowed.

He had been summoned. Alone. On the eve of his closest brother's memorial service. "I abdicated," he said in some pathetic form of apology, he realized.

The former king snorted. The blade was raw. Unsheathed. Catching the light as the only sparkling thing in the room. "Then your treachery is only outdone by your cowardice."

Hilio winced physically and tears sprang to his eyes. He swallowed a few times before he could speak. "I'm sorry," he breathed out, but was interrupted by Baskar's wheezing laugh. Still fixed as he was on his sword.

"You come crawling to apologize?" he growled. Far more menacing than Hilio had ever seen him.

"N–No, I…" His whimper faded as Baskar looked straight at him. Hilio looked away and took a step back. He had never felt scared of his father. Hesitant, yes. Shameful, certainly. It was the labor of being the youngest. But never scared for his own life.

"There were no corpses to bury, I hear," the former king asked. His voice cracked midway through.

More tears fell as Hilio began to tremble in fear. "No," he said in a tear drenched voice. Suddenly his grief returned. He had lost _all_ of them. Was so terribly alone. All his brothers. His confidants. His mother's love. His father's. Solitary in a way he had never been even one day of his life.

"Had I any power left you would not be standing," Baskar admitted in that gravelly voice. The one that betrayed the loneliness he had endured during his seclusion. The desolation without beginning or end that he now experienced and so sadistically shared.

Hilio's breath quivered as he drew it in. His eyes firmly planted on the floor. More tears fell and a little sob could not be contained though it only made Baskar sneer. His heart broke then and he truly became the wretched beast his father thought him to be. His _mother_.

"Cease your simpering," he muttered and chucked the sword into the corner with a clatter.

Hilio flinched, hands reaching for his non-present weapon. Outside the room came voices, but none entered though he prayed they would. Prayed to be spared any more of this. To be in a room with his loving parent and feel completely abandoned. "I did what I had to," he forced out, nearly breathless. He jerked and fought to remain upright when suddenly his father surged out of his seat and stood in front of his last son. Hands gripped the material of Hilio's shirt and he drew the boy closer, staring down at him. His breath smelled sour.

Hilio looked steadfastly away and fought with every instinct that bade him fight or flee. Instead he looked up. "I placed Liliana on the throne," His voice was almost a whisper, but the space between them was but the breadth of three fingers.

Baskar sneered into the face of his youngest son and clenched the boy's shirt before he pushed away.

He had a sudden flash of his niece's face, in his mind's eye. That sweet girl who would never know the support of her grandfather and king. He looked up, anger creeping into his voice, steeling it. "Stay here and rot if you will," he forced out before he lost what little nerve he had left. He looked up to see his father's shocked eyes snapping to his. Fury roiling around in them. "Your third son was laid to rest this morn. Escar," He said the name as a slap on the face of the man before him. Suddenly trepidation was replaced with loathing. He would bear _his_ loneliness. "M–My brother," he forced out. Who he loathed more, he could not say. Himself or his father seemed irrelevant.

Baskar looked at him, completely stunned. Half curved by old age and half by grief. Fully mad from loss.

"If you would not attend _his_ funeral perhaps you'll witness the remaining two."

The days were counted as space in between one dead prince and the next. Hilio had never _wanted_ to die, but could not shake the thought that perhaps he _should_ have. He looked back down to the floor. Tears that still rolled down his face were now forgotten. Indeed, un _felt_ , as he stood there in the presence of the man who had disowned him. The man he had failed.

With the last of his determination he forced out what he had promised himself to say. "But I think your _wife_ should like to see you," He glanced up at the lingering shock in his father's eyes and quickly down. Then, with a nod mostly to himself he turned and opened the chamber door. Letting the guards close it again.

He stopped in surprise as soon as he exited. The door snicked shut behind him and sealed his father's hatred inside.

Outside waited a familiar face.

She was fair and kind. Softly spoken and always modest. She would never lead a battle, nor pick up a sword, but perhaps that could be _his_ role. She had no intention of seeing Baskar, he realized, but was possibly there out of concern for her predecessor. _Or concern for **him**?_

His fragile hope fell far too easily, and yet – as he looked up at the Queen Regent's face – she offered him the very briefest of smiles.

A smile that seemed to say that all would be well. _Someday_ if not this day.

* * *

A kind of exhausted peace returned in those, final stages of travel. A cloak settling over strained shoulders to soothe a long remised sense of ease. Many breathed a sigh of relief when fair Paravel sparkled into existence once more, upon return. She was bathed in light that day and all manner of creatures rushed out to sea to greet the returning ship.

Blowing wind in _Ouranios'_ sails were blessed winds of Aethos and Nephele, summoned on edict by the king of Gods. Pushing the _Ouranios_ forwards. Peter breathed in the sweet trade wind and sent his blessings away on a gust. Carrying it upwards and higher. Back towards Aslan's Country where all winds were born. He felt that all would be well if they could just get home.

At his side were his siblings, each in a state of disrepair. Each in their own mind, but all watching with the same relief, to once again breathe deep the sweet smell of apple blooming orchards and _see_ Cair Paravel.

Seals and river goddesses had braved the currents near the cliffs to come and sail the ship ashore. Wood nymphs sailed on swift thrusts as flowery pedals to wave at them kindly.

The mouth of Glasswater sparkled and crystalized her harbor, named for the sweet waters. They took it all in. Seagulls crying their hello. Exotic Birds sweeping low to welcome the ship home. Animals and Creatures awaiting their return on shore. Chirping in symphony as they slipped across the exuberant winds.

He glanced across at his siblings and saw a deep weariness. Like quilts that had been used beyond their endurance and was left frazzled at the edges, patched, pale and worn. Each staring at the sight before them, unable to put words to their feelings. Or perhaps, as he, _unwilling_.

* * *

His peace lasted a day.

"I don't _want_ this."

A clatter of metal skidding across the floor and a couple of frightened exclamations warned Susan before she entered. She rounded the corner at the very familiar, female voice. "Lucy!" she barked in outrage, standing just inside the entrance to Lucy's chamber.

The girl's face was bright red and a sneer of anger carved across it. "Tell them to _leave_!" she shrieked and hurled a second bronze platter at a bewildered Faun and a Cat page, grapes spilling over the smooth wooden floorboards. The small feline page ducking behind the Faun's legs, visibly frightened.

Susan waved them out with barely a glance. " _What_ is going _on_?" she demanded the second the two servants cleared the room.

Lucy closed her eyes and her fingers twisted into her hair. She pulled with a shrill yowl and stomped as though squashing something beneath her feet. "I just want them to _leave_!" she shrieked at the open door. Now thoroughly alone, but no less appeased for it.

Voices echoed outside and preceded Peter and Edmund's bewildered entrance. "Get _out!_ " she screamed and picked up a water pitcher from her baths. She hurled it across the room, water spilling in a long tongue, forcing Susan to skip out of its way. The porcelain crashed against wood and exploded across the floor just as Peter and Edmund entered, taking in the scene with wide eyes.

"What's happening?" Peter demanded.

Susan watched her sister, worried frown carving across her face. Her entire body was humming. "I ca– I can't," the young girl, cried. Tears began falling down her face and she sank to the floor with a whimper. Heaving sobs expanded her body and she let out a keening that was no doubt heard by every being within the Cair.

Peter was stupefied. He watched her with his mouth open and beckoning tears in his eyes. "Darling," he whispered and made a cautious advance, but her next scream had him physically flinching away.

"Stay _away_ from me!" she screamed, curling in on herself. Crying brokenly into the floor.

Susan's hand found her chest subconsciously, the sound tearing through her better than a knife. She felt like something was squeezing her insides.

" _Ple–ase_ ," Lucy keened.

Susan drew a breath that left her no less full. She couldn't seem to catch her breath. "Lu– Lucy," she whispered and raised a hand. Warm tears were falling down her face. "I know something happened," she whispered and took a step closer.

Lucy wailed into the floor and curled tighter around herself.

Behind his brother, closest to the door, Edmund began weeping soundlessly. Susan took another cautious step. " _Please_ , Sister," The girl in question cried heartbreakingly into her knees and looked so small. Susan could hardly bear it and a sob of her own forced its way out. "I know something happened," she repeated in a slightly louder voice.

Peter's head snapped to the back of hers. Tears rolling down his cheeks as well and a strange, violent urge to move making him tremble.

Lucy's anger broke and fractured into grief. Her clenched muscles turned to water and she sagged over her own thighs, gripping feebly at her nightgown. Arms curling around her shoulders and folded knees as she wailed in sadness.

"Lucy," Susan asked softly and ventured closer. Her heart was pounding and a strange knot of tension was securely fastened in her chest. As she kneeled she placed a hand, very lightly, on her sister's back. She almost stopped breathing as she gently pushed Lucy up and drew her closer.

"What do you mean?" Peter whispered. He seemed loathe to approach.

Susan glanced back at both her brothers, concerned to see Edmund crying silently with immeasurable sadness directed at Lucy. "I believe it was the infection?" she asked her younger brother.

Peter turned to look at him, taking in his upset with a fresh wave of trepidation. His breath was rattling in and out of his chest in time with his heart. "What infection?" His right hand twitched for Rhindon which was painfully absent.

Edmund drew breath to speak, but instead let out an audible sob. He stood, stiff as a board, posture warning anyone from touching him. Meanwhile Lucy had curled into Susan's embrace like she was clinging to life from a precipice. "You became infected, didn't you?" she asked with a tearful voice. _Are you still?_ a darker one wondered. _  
_

"Yes," Lucy whimpered.

Edmund swallowed and sniffed, repeated, and attempted to speak. His entire being was shaking though it seemed some measure of control would not be relinquished. "Sh–she saved me," he choked out. He sent a quick, pleading glance at his brother, but otherwise focused on Susan. "It was my f–fault," His voice was a simile of its usual timber.

Peter whirled back on the girls and took in the sight of Susan running a hand down their sister's back in repetitive motions. "Well that's-" Peter stopped when the notion popped into his mind. "How?" He glanced back, but Edmund had averted his gaze. "Lucy, _how_?"

He sounded small, Susan thought. They all did. "It was something horrible, wasn't it?" she muttered down at her younger sister.

Lucy let out a whimper against Susan's dress, but nodded into the fabric.

"Lucy," Tears dripped down from Peter's face and he felt a deep seated fear take hold. Climb its way higher and higher. "How?" he asked in such a small tone. He lingered a distance from both girls, but the urge to move vanished and was replaced with a nearly shapeless existence. He became as light and insubstantial as air.

Lucy moaned into Susan's shirt and crawled closer. In return the elder wrapped her arms tighter around her and drew her as close as she could. "Let's not talk about it, Peter," she asked.

He still looked uncomprehending. Hesitant. "Are you infected now?" he asked his brother.

Edmund shook his head a little frantically. "She cured me. The Cor- The Cordial…" He receded a step, hand reaching for the wall.

Peter darted his eyes between one sibling and the other, attempting to make sense of everything. "Are you _sure_ you're cured?"

Edmund nodded again. Susan was burning holes in his skull when the eldest brother looked at her. It seemed as though she was attempting to tell him something through her eyes, but Peter was grasping as to what that might be. He approached Lucy and she, with a hand out. "Lu,"

The girl was calming down before their eyes. Soft sounds still escaped her, but her movements stopped and her shivers faded. Peter's own settled as well though he scrambled to understand everything that was happening. They had seemed _better_. Inexplicably _fine_ after making landfall the day before and he had honestly hoped it was their return to Home. The anxious atmosphere around their little family had been almost completely absent, soothed by the monotonous crashing of waves against a shore.

Then something had brought it back.

He watched his eldest sister, but she had averted her eyes as she continued petting Lucy. She was staring vacantly at a spot on the wall as she did it.

"Is she alright?" Edmund asked in a small voice.

Peter turned and found him pressed against the wall by the door. "She's fine, Ed."

He nodded, wide eyes riveted to the girls. _He_ seemed to be coming apart at the seams as well.

"Do you want to-" Peter had reached out, but the second before he could touch him Edmund slipped from the room without a glance back. Peter turned to Susan in confusion and found her once again staring at him.

"What are you waiting for?" she whispered. Lucy sniffed loudly. Susan glanced at the door that was now ajar, and back at Peter.

It clicked, then. He nodded and took off in a sprint.

* * *

Edmund needed an escape. He needed _outside_. Every hall he turned was occupied and the stinging realization that there was no place for him to be alone left him shaky with fear. His breathing was irregular and every face he encountered looked strange.

He turned another corner and recognized an entry into one of the many gardens. Not all of them had names he readily remembered and this one was rather unremarkable. It sat on a ledge of sorts. One of the many plateaued gardens around the castle. One of the few with a view of the northern woods.

He took a measured step outside and looked around, taking in the shaded side of the castle. It was early, a few hours after dawn in the summer when nights were _so_ short, and a brisk wind was blowing. Clouds dappled the skies and danced in the light. The grass rippled by the occasional strokes of a air and leaves on the bushes and trees rattled, but all else remained quiet. It was still cold and Edmund shivered, realizing he had vacated the room quite without proper clothes, and barefoot.

A Mole stuck his out head from where he had dug a hole, probably without permission, because he quickly popped back down with a shameful wince.

Edmund took it all in with a deep breath.

A twittering bird on a tree branch and those much higher up, on the high bauers and peaks, on balustrades and gutters of the castle that were now cast in the morning light. Sun glittering like gold. The curves of the walls where wind curved in wicked whorls. He looked up and blinked his eyes against the bright heavens, wondering how long it took the sun to reach this garden each morning.

His hands were unconsciously grabbing the folds of his nightgown and his toes were curling and uncurling by equal turns. The grass was still a little wet from the night.

"Edmund?" Peter exited behind him, but the boy in question didn't turn. "What are you doing out here?" He sounded a little out of breath.

"Nothing," he muttered. He wasn't surprised by Peter's arrival. Not very.

He wondered how the view looked just then from the other side of the castle. Overlooking the glowing sea. If all the small birds – and _Birds_ – were catching their breakfast _there_. Enjoying the warmth. "When are we going back to Terebinthia?" he asked quite randomly, in Peter's mind at least, and the elder took a second the gather his answer.

"Not for a while, Ed," He came closer and stood next to him, looking down from the height he still possessed over his three siblings.

"Hm," Edmund acknowledged.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

Peter looked around the garden. "You come to the Flu garden often?" he asked lightly.

Edmund looked around in _aha_ – Elder trees. It was a nursery for members of the _Adoxaceae Sambucus_ tribe although he saw a gooseberry bush that someone had snuck in the mix. Probably the Mole. "I wasn't looking where I was going, honestly."

He felt calm again. More at ease already with each surpassing breath.

Peter walked over and stroked one of the fine-leaved trees. "They're not quite in bloom yet."

Edmund looked at his bowed back and felt a stab of sadness, suddenly at a loss for what to say. "They will be."

Peter turned to him with a surprised smile. Very faint, but there. "I know," He came back over. "We should keep a lookout for the berries."

"And risk the wrath of whatever garden deity tends them?" Edmund asked with a casual wave around.

"They won't miss a few berries," he answered with a look around. The voluminous and low-set crowns waved softly in the wind. "And it's Kelí who tends them."

Edmund's pursed lips prompted an explanation.

"She's the Wood Nymph that gave Lucy that wreath last Spring Feast?"

"Ah," he smirked. "The one with elder flowers, of course," Peter nodded. "Explains a lot."

"And Bradley works here too, I think," He looked around again with a small frown.

"A Mole?"

"Yes," he asked in a questioning tone, but Edmund chose not to elaborate, allowing Peter an extended amount of time to watch him.

"You want to come back inside?"

Edmund's shoulders stiffened marginally. "No," Although he used a soft voice he still felt Peter tense up next to him.

The High King glanced at the entrance once before he made to leave. "Alright," He paused and studied his brother's back. "Come find us when you're ready?"

Edmund almost looked at him. "I will."

He realized with a vague sense of dread that it was a promise.

* * *

 _A/N: Next one..._


	24. Cair Paravel

_A/N: Last chapter. I love you :*_

 _Disclaimer: I own naught - everything is borrowed, either from elecktrum, Lewis, or Anderson._

* * *

Chapter 24: Cair Paravel

Days progressed since that first day. In a dawdling daze as the tetrarchs healed from their ordeal, each in their own ways. Court began anew as summer took its hold more firmly with each passing sunrise. It would be a cold year, Edmund felt. Late summer. Spring had arrived late and bloomed sparsely in spite of the fertility Narnia possessed. There were rumblings of unease as the bean fields grew weaker than years prior. Rye and barley as well, though enough to appease the worst concerns. Storages would be light come winter and supplies would have to be bought from Archenland and Calormen, but hunger and disease would take stronger hold elsewhere than in their little Narnia.

They sat in a room now, joined by the Angus Bull Rallion Largon, representative of farmers all across Narnia and Master of farmed land, had joined the kings and queens for an early address that morning. They were seated on stools of red velvet upholstery and golden trim, for the benefit of the black Bull who preferred himself to remain standing. "Ex Rallion Largon," Peter addressed formally.

The Bull nodded. "Sire," he said in a deep rumble.

"How goes the pulse crop?"

A notary was jotting down every word spoken next to Sir Giles. A nimble-fingered River Otter by the noble name of Salvarsas, and a loyal friend of Sir Giles', had recently been hired as court recorder and was being put to task.

"Clover and pea grow well, Your Majesty," Rallion answered in his deep, respectful tone. "But I fear the beans are less jovial for the lack of warmth."

Peter nodded and glanced over at Salvarsas whose tongue stuck out as he noted the listings, quill dipping in the inkwell with increasing furiosity as his scribbles became more and more frenzied.

"The cereals are growing more sparsely than previous years. Emmer wheat does well in any weather, almost regardless of soil value, but it suffers from the late season. The barley is blooming and five lasts of winter rye is being harvested without delay," The Ox sighed regretfully, producing a snort that almost jarred his soft looking muzzle. "I fear we will have a late and long summer, Sire."

Lucy had been tempted to touch Rallion's nose upon his arrival, but had dutifully abstained. She found him adorable despite his intimidating size and boisterous demeanor. Her demeanour had improved much since their initial return, but a touch of darkness lingered when she thought no one was watching.

"I fear the fruit orchards are too young for me to make much of a statement yet."

Susan stepped in. "We understand. The Nymphs and dryads will keep us informed of their progress over the summer months. As they will on the newly planted walnut and pecan groves," she finished with a nod.

Rallion nodded in acceptance.

"How is your family, Ex Largon?" Lucy chirped. It was difficult to see, near impossible, if one did know of the ordeal she had undergone so recently. But the smile was far from its former strength.

Edmund felt it keenly and was beginning to wonder how much longer he could last under the steadily climbing pressure he himself experienced.

It was a need, made more pressing with each passing day.

The Ox smiled in his familiar way. "They are well, Your Majesty. I spoke with Felice as I arrived. Our youngest ones have matured since my last visit. Two wee lads," he proudly announced through a smile, even though Lucy knew both boys well – and _wee_ was never an adjective she would affix to either of them, massive as they were, and boisterous to boot.

As many of Rallion's kind did, he too traveled more than he stayed in one place. Coupled with the strange intricacies of bovine family-structures and the four sovereigns were content to simply accept his tales, rather than inquire too deeply into their causes. "Oh how lovely," she said with a genuine smile. Felice was one of Rallion's many wives. Ogden and Oscar were two of Rallion's many sons.

Rallion himself seemed smitten as he smiled at Lucy, as most _were_ when she sent them her undivided attention. Or what most _perceived_ as undivided.

Edmund watched each of his siblings as proceedings babbled on, settling on Lucy, and wasn't convinced.

* * *

Darkness covered the room like a grim hand. At his sister's dwindling, phantom cries for mercy Edmund reacted physically. Something twisted around him, stealing mobility of his arms and legs. His heartrate skyrocketed and his breaths became panicked pleas for someone to help. In his dreams he was screaming.

In reality he assumed he had been making a sound as well, though with a little luck not nearly as loud. He was jolted from his nightmare by two hands on his shoulders, shaking him so hard his teeth rattled.

" _Wake up_ ," Peter pleaded in the darkness. He was panting.

Edmund snapped to consciousness with a trained swipe of an arm and a forceful kick to a knee, sending Peter thumping against the mattress before he landed on the floor with a moan. "Peter!" he squeaked, leaning over to find his beloved brother, face down on the dark floor. Arms and legs akimbo against the rug.

"Sire!" Martil shrieked as he burst into the room, stopping only when he found no threats besides a rather perturbed Just King and his chagrined brother.

"We're fine," Edmund established with a warning hand for Martil to leave before another word was uttered.

Peter crawled to his knees with a deep groan as he ran a hand across his face. The door closed softly behind them, once again casting the room into darkness. He looked up at his brother in disbelief before said brother sighed and claimed a space on his bed. "You were dreaming," he said in annoyed justification.

Edmund froze and his shoulders unconsciously drew up. His chest constricted as Lucy's breaking apologies came to the forefront of his mind and it became harder to breathe once again.

The image of Peter and Susan framing their young sister in loving embraces made shame bubble up inside him. "Sorry," he whispered. A remnant of former behavior.

Peter glanced over, though Edmund wondered how much there was to see in the darkness. Not pitch black with an cloudless sky and a reflecting ocean outside their window, but dark enough to hide.

He could still feel the invading tickles of plants crawling against his legs, and shivered.

Peter felt it, but said nothing. Just stared at him sadly through the darkness. "What were you dreaming about?" he asked instead.

Edmund tensed up under his covers and nearly folded in on himself, but instead straightened with a huff and twitch of his nose. "None of your business."

Peter seemed shocked for a second before he relaxed with a faint laugh. "I've been having dreams as well."

 _That_ made Edmund look over. He never wanted for that. Would never wish such nefarious sickness as that of an insomnia-ridden mind – _especially_ not on his brother. "About what?"

Peter shrugged and began picking at his cuticles. "About rocks falling from the sky," he admitted in a small voice.

Edmund's heart was pounding, but he hardly felt it. "Did you see the mine?"

"No, but it feels like I was stuck in there with you," he admitted.

Edmund shrugged uncomfortably. "We weren't there for long."

Peter watched him.

"We got out on the other side. That's what _I_ dream about," He hadn't meant to admit it. Had meant to keep it hidden until it was forgotten. Someday.

At Peter's intense presence it seemed that hope was now lost, no more able to deny him now than any other day in his Narnian existance. "What was it like?"

Edmund dreaded that question. He had received it more times than he cared to count, but dreaded it with rising intensity every time it was uttered. He shook his head, not in decline, but rather at a loss for words. "I don't know," he muttered. His own hands became wildly interesting to him suddenly.

"You were with the princes?"

"Yes," He remembered their faces with sick guilt. In the narrow recesses of his mind he knew the guilt was far more insidious than _just so_. He almost snorted. With Jadis the guilt had been pure and honest. It had weighed him down and still did to some extent, because he had betrayed, but he had been forgiven. His guilt now over those who had died – all those _people_ – was not of their deaths, as good guilt should be. Rather he realized with a sinking desperation that he felt no sadness over their loss at all.

He was pleased for Gedeminas and Typhos to have survived, but had not spared a thought or a moment of silent compassion to the others who gave their lives so that he and Lucy might survive. What he had wanted so badly, so honestly and without remorse in that horrid place was without equal here. _Here_ it was a tainted thought, one that soured his soul and made him unfit for rule. Too dark to flourish in the brightness. It was one of complete abandon for human life, one he had taken so keenly upon himself whilst there, that _now_ the guilt he felt was over not dying. And an absence of remorse for the others' deaths.

He drew a shivering breath and cursed himself silently when a tear fell. Hopefully darkness swallowed it up.

"You know," Peter whispered. "If you ever want to talk about it…"

Edmund _didn't_. _Never_ would, but nodded regardless. As another tear fell Peter reached over and gently wiped it from his face, and in that moment he lost his tenuous control. Weeping turned to small sobs that shook him to the core. His hands, formless and limp, curled inward as though attempting to contain something that had no form.

"You stupid boy," Peter moaned gently through his own, sudden tears, and placed a hand on his brother's head before he drew him in. He kissed his forehead when more sobs forced their way out of his little brother. Into the dark and lonely room.

Edmund felt like he was suffocating in his brother's gentle embrace, in their dark bedroom, in his elected role, in _everything_. "I had– I had to," he stuttered. His words resonated so deeply within himself that he nearly stopped crying in sheer surprise. Defending decisions that had cost humans their lives, for the sake of _one_ life. _He had to_. And it dawned on him, _just then_ , how true that was.

"Shh, little brother," Peter whispered desperately against his hair, leaving kisses in the brown locks.

"I'm sorry– sorry," he babbled through heaving breaths. "It was my f–fault," he stuttered. "My f–fault," A loud whine left him and Peter responded physically.

"Shh, shh," He wrapped his long arms around him and began rocking back and forth slowly. "Shh," he _tsked_ against his brother's temple. Planting one kiss after the other, already resigned that he might never know the full extent of Edmund and Lucy's trauma; might never understand the horrors that had been impacted upon them, but vowing to never stop listening for that timid whisper in the darkness.

A faint voice that sometimes – _just_ sometimes – called out for forgiveness, sometimes for council, and sometimes… for comfort.

"It'll be alright. You'll see," he whispered in the darkness.

Whatever hope he had was mirrored darkly by despair and he doubted it would ever truly fade. At least not until his siblings forgot

...and moved on.

* * *

The End.


	25. Epilogue

_A/N: Character-list will be uploaded to main page at some point (for this story and the Guardians arc). Minor alteration to the date*  
_

 _A/N2: I am **so** mean. So very, **very** mean._

* * *

Epilogue

 **10 years later…**

 _1013 of the King's Calendar_

Rain fell uninterrupted for days. A bird took flight from a treetop. A tremor through the earth frightened beasts of the Western Wild.

Under pines and ash, dark green vied for dominance with dark grey as heavens-overturned poured down upon the tranquil forests. Uproariously disagreeing with the movements of earth. A charcoal sky churned in a building whorl and thunder beckoned in the distance.

 _Animals fled_.

The very forest in which they lived smelled like _fear_. Sent them scurrying away on quick feet. The foxes. The wolves. The elk. The deer. Some fled to higher ground. Others just fled.

Those who _knew_ – who felt the earth move and knew what it heralded – abandoned their homes, their caves, in the wake of that _first_ tremor. But the sad creatures that could not, _would_ not, crawled away like animals and hid in the rain, on high perches. Defying nature.

The boggles - dumb and violent - hid in crevasses all along the northern mountain range. They were the first to vanish.

The ogres. Those who knew to fear darkness, fled to open range. The fields to the north where not a tree spiked the view for miles. They trembled as distant tremors frightened their young and the smell of a new apex predator filled their noses.

But in that deep, Western Wild – in those secret crevasses that scored the foundations of Narnia, _there_ came a sound. Like a tremulous whisper amidst the storm that raged in unfettered intensity, like a searching of shadows.

Like clicking claws against a rock.

 _There!_ came a whisper and a pale hand followed.

* * *

 _A/N: And so it begins..._


End file.
